#or maybe i just don’t know how to be happy
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bonkwrites · 2 days ago
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OBSESSED with the whole american x 141 man combo. smut ahead!
Not necessarily giving up your identity when you move out of the US, just wanting to explore different cultures and see new things. Then you meet one of the boys, maybe it’s Kyle or Johnny, and they introduce you to your actual, literal husband within a week of knowing you. And Simon Riley isn’t a bad guy, they tell you, just a little rough around the edges. And you’re young, in a new country, you flew on a plane for the first time to get here and it didn’t go down so you feel invincible– and you fuck Simon Riley. 
The mask isn’t even in the equation, he won’t wear it when he’s not on a mission or on base, and he’s got a scar on his cheek that’s textured when you grab his face and kiss him. He tastes like bourbon. You taste like vodka and lime. He lays you down on your hotel mattress and spreads your legs and calls you love while he’s fucking you. 
“Fuck, lovie, like that. Take it like that.” you thought maybe the accent would make it too funny to be sexy but there might be something to be said about pavlov’s dog and the bell here…. 
He’s so big and so on top of you and he’s pushing your legs to your chest to pin you underneath him while he fucks you. You feel sorry for the other people on the floor the next morning but in moment all you can think is Simon, Simon, Simon and all you can do is beg him don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop– 
You’re so happy you got your IUD before you started traveling. 
Simon says sometimes he thinks he did it in the wrong order. You fucked and then he took you out to dinner. You tell him sometimes you wish he would have let you ride him that night. He remedies your wishes immediately, all the time. 
Did you know there’s only one Taco Bell in all of England? You crave chalupa’s so intensely that you once rode a train for an hour and a bus for three just to have the worst Taco Bell of your life. Did you know that almost 50% of Americans own a gun or are proficient with one? Color 141 the most surprised they’ve ever been when you go to a gun range while they’re stationed in Texas and Simon tries to teach you gun safety but you correct him the entire time. 
“I used to go hunting with my dad, Si, I know this.” and then you have decently good grouping that’s just a little to the left and Johnny tries to show you how it’s really done and– misses entirely. 
“Is that how it’s done, Johnny?” you taunt, smiling so cheekily that Simon can’t keep his own smile off his face. 
“Listen up, bonnie, I’ve done more training-” 
“Doesn’t seem like it to me.” you mumble. Simon swear he can see the steam coming out of Johnny’s ears. 
“Lass, so help me God, if you don’t-” 
“Poor baby, Johnny,” you frown, still taunting him, your hips sway as you walk up to him and take his face into your hands, “Did you get beat in a shooting contest by a civvie? Will you live to see another day?”  You shake his head in your hands and Johnny goes red for a completely different reason than his pride and anger. Johnny’s hands twitch, Simon can see him reaching for your sides as you release his face and step away from him. Soon, Simon wants to tell him, she’s going to tell you soon.
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pucksandpower · 2 days ago
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Rumour Has It
Franco Colapinto x Princess of Norway!Reader
Summary: you’ve never heard of Franco before and Franco has certainly never heard of you … but when gossip magazines decide to set you two up, Franco realizes that he wouldn’t mind making the rumors a reality
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“Have you seen this?” Noora says, bursting into your study with a tablet clutched to her chest, her eyes wide and frantic.
You look up, half-expecting the sky to have fallen or for Oslo to be under siege. “Seen what?”
Noora slams the tablet down on your desk, and your face is met with a tabloid headline in bold, obnoxious letters: Norway’s Princess Caught in Secret Romance with Argentinian Racing Prodigy Franco Colapinto!
You blink at the screen, then back at Noora, and then at the screen again, as if maybe the headline might rearrange itself into something more sensible. “Sorry, who?”
“Franco Colapinto!” She says, exasperated. “The Argentine driver — the rookie! In Formula 1!”
You tilt your head. “I don’t know who that is.”
Noora gives you a look that’s somewhere between sympathy and horror. “Okay, well, apparently you’re dating him. And half of Norway seems to think so too, thanks to this article.”
“Dating? Noora, I’ve never even heard of him, let alone met him! And this … this is nonsense!” You shove the tablet back at her, feeling your cheeks flush. “How did this even happen?”
Noora sighs, sliding the tablet away. “It’s the internet. They don’t need facts to build a story — they just need a blurry photo and a wild imagination.”
You pinch the bridge of your nose, exhaling sharply. “And why didn’t anyone tell me sooner? It’s not like we don’t have a whole team for this.”
“Well, to be fair, it only surfaced last night,” she says, crossing her arms. “But now it’s all over social media, and your name is attached to his. People are actually talking about you two as if you’re the new royal couple.”
Your stomach does an uncomfortable flip. You’ve spent years cultivating a careful, respectable image — a modern princess who’s still traditional enough to respect the expectations placed on her. And now, you’re supposedly dating a race car driver?
“What exactly are they saying?” You ask, your voice quieter, laced with dread.
Noora hesitates, but you give her a pointed look until she relents. “They’re saying you met him at some secret event in Monaco and that you’ve been hiding your relationship to avoid the media frenzy. Apparently, he’s been visiting Norway on his off-days just to see you.” She snorts. “It’s absurd, really. But people are eating it up.”
You stare at her, your pulse thrumming in your ears. “This cannot be happening.”
“Oh, but it is. And the comments …” She trails off, biting her lip.
“Out with it, Noora.”
She sighs. “Some are saying it’s refreshing that you’re dating someone so … I don’t know, normal. But others …” She winces. “Others think it’s irresponsible. That you’re … well, neglecting your duty for some glamorous fling.”
You take a shaky breath, willing yourself to stay calm. “Neglecting my duty,” you repeat, more to yourself than to her. “Because I’m apparently sneaking off with some Formula 1 driver I’ve never even met.”
“I know,” she says, reaching out and giving your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “But it’ll pass. A few days, maybe a week, and they’ll have moved on to the next scandal.”
You close your eyes for a moment, trying to imagine it blowing over. “And what if it doesn’t?”
“Then we get PR involved. Make a statement, deny everything.” She pauses, eyeing you with a wary smile. “Or, you know, we could just arrange a very public appearance with you and someone else. Nothing quashes rumors like a little royal romance with a suitable partner.”
Your eyes snap open. “Noora.”
She grins, unphased by your glare. “What? It’s an option.”
“I’m not going to parade around with someone just to make the tabloids happy,” you say, crossing your arms.
“Well, that leaves us with the boring option: addressing it head-on, squashing the rumor, and hoping it dies quickly.”
“That will just make it worse,” you sigh resignedly. “The press will think any denial means we have something to hide.”
Noora nods, still eyeing you cautiously. “You could always lean into it a little — make it sound mysterious.”
“Mysterious?” You echo. “No, Noora. I want it gone. I don’t even know this man!”
“All right, all right,” she concedes, hands raised in surrender. “But you know, you could at least look him up.”
You narrow your eyes. “Why would I do that?”
“Because people are going to be asking questions. You’re the Princess of Norway. If they think you’re dating him, it would help to know who he is.”
You open your mouth to argue, but she’s already pulling out her phone. “Just … humor me, okay? It’ll take two seconds.”
She taps her screen, and suddenly a series of photos pops up — images of a young man with dark hair and a serious expression, usually in some variation of a racing suit, often holding a helmet. He’s smiling in one photo, a faint smirk in another, but the confident gleam in his eyes is unmistakable.
“He’s twenty-one,” Noora says, scrolling through some text. “Started karting young, worked his way up. Got his big break with Formula 1 this year.”
You try not to look interested, but it’s hard to ignore the pictures flashing by. He has a kind of easy charisma, that much is obvious.
“And look,” she adds, holding up a picture of him on the track, eyes focused, mouth set in a determined line. “He’s pretty talented, apparently.”
You shake your head, forcing yourself to look away. “None of this matters. Because I don’t know him, and I’m certainly not dating him.”
Noora smirks. “Doesn’t matter. The media thinks you are, and as far as they’re concerned, that makes it practically true.”
You groan, sinking back in your chair. “So what do I do?”
“For now? Sit tight, let PR work their magic. But you might want to brush up on your Formula 1 knowledge, just in case anyone asks.” She grins, clearly enjoying your discomfort. “Wouldn’t want you to sound unprepared.”
You roll your eyes, reaching for the tablet and skimming the article’s ridiculous details. “He brought me roses on the first date?” You mutter, incredulous. “We had a secret dinner at a villa on the Côte d’Azur? Do they just make this up?”
“Pretty much. And it’s only going to get worse if people keep sharing it.”
You rub your temples, trying to banish the lingering image of Franco’s cocky smile from your mind. “Fantastic. Just what I needed — a fake romance with a twenty-one-year-old race car driver.”
Noora pats your shoulder sympathetically. “Could be worse.”
“How, exactly?”
“It could be real.”
***
Franco is hunched over his phone, scrolling mindlessly through his notifications as he waits for his PR briefing to start. The Williams headquarters is bustling this morning, and he barely notices when the door opens until Abbie, his PR officer, strides in, her expression uncharacteristically serious.
“Franco, we need to talk,” she says, folding her arms.
He glances up, one eyebrow raised. “Am I in trouble already? That’s got to be a record.”
Abbie sighs. “No, you’re not in trouble. But you’re in … let’s call it a situation.” She pulls up a chair across from him, lowering her voice as if sharing state secrets. “Have you seen the news?”
“Can’t say I have,” he replies, half-interested. “What, did Carlos suddenly decide to retire and I get to keep my seat for next season?”
Abbie doesn’t laugh, which is a bit worrying. Instead, she hands him her phone, showing a screen filled with a tabloid headline. Princess Y/N of Norway in Secret Romance with F1’s Newest Rising Star, Franco Colapinto!
His brows furrow as he reads, slowly, taking in the headline, the photos, the fabricated “romantic details.”
“Wait … I’m dating a princess?” He says, breaking into a grin. “And nobody thought to tell me?”
Abbie sighs. “Apparently. They’ve got edited photos, fake details — everything.”
He leans back, intrigued. “Princess Y/N,” he muses, tapping his chin with a thoughtful smirk. “Of Norway?”
“Yes, of Norway.” She leans in closer, her expression serious. “This has gone viral, Franco. Everyone’s talking about it.”
He can’t resist; he grabs his own phone and taps out “Princess Y/N of Norway.” The first few links are about her background, her position in the line of succession. “So, she’s next in line to be queen or something?”
“Second in line,” Abbie corrects. “After her father. She’s a pretty big deal over there.”
Franco’s eyes sparkle with interest. “Second in line. And she’s what … like, forty?”
“Not even close,” Abbie says, exasperated. “She’s around your age, I think. She’s twenty-something.”
Franco looks at her, skeptical. “Twenty-something? And a princess?” He scrolls through images of palaces, state functions, and some photos of you smiling politely at dignitaries. She’s dressed elegantly, impeccably, not a hair out of place.
Then, finally, he finds one candid shot, and he stops scrolling. You’re laughing in the photo, a little windswept, wearing jeans and a T-shirt, your smile bright and entirely un-royal. He smirks.
“All right, all right,” he mutters to himself, still looking at the photo. “She’s pretty cute.” He taps back to the headline with a glint of amusement in his eye. “But still not a MILF.”
Abbie groans. “You’re impossible.”
He shrugs, still looking delighted. “Come on. You know my type. I like them older. But …” He trails off, grinning wider. “I could certainly do worse.”
“You’re not actually considering this, are you?” Abbie says, horrified. “Franco, this is a fake rumor. You’re supposed to be distancing yourself from it.”
“Oh, I know. I know.” He holds up his hands in mock surrender. “But it’s kind of funny, isn’t it? Me, a royal boyfriend?” He leans back, arms crossed, still smirking. “I’m almost flattered.”
Abbie sighs and taps her own phone, clearly typing something in response to the rest of the Williams PR team. “Look, flattered or not, you need to be careful. She’s a public figure. If you say the wrong thing, it’ll just fuel the fire.”
“Oh, please,” he says, waving a hand. “What are they gonna do? Put me on trial?”
“Maybe not you,” Abbie replies, giving him a warning look, “but she has an image to protect. This isn’t just gossip for her — it’s her whole life.”
He lets out a low whistle, thinking. “Must be hard, huh? Everyone expecting you to act a certain way. Not much room for fun.”
Abbie eyes him, her expression softening a bit. “I’m sure it is. Which is why we need to treat this carefully.”
Franco glances back at the photos, his smile fading a bit as he considers. He may not know you, but he can picture the situation well enough: the relentless tabloids, the public judgment, all the expectations.
“All right, fine,” he says, finally. “What’s the plan?”
She breathes a sigh of relief. “Thank you. I’ll be working with her team to prepare a statement. The usual ‘there’s no truth to these rumors’ line. But until then, keep it low-key.”
He raises a brow. “Low-key? Since when have I ever been low-key?”
“Then try for once.” She gives him a pleading look. “It’ll help her out. Trust me.”
Franco nods, though there’s a spark of amusement still flickering in his eyes. He can’t help it — he’s never been one to turn down a little excitement, and this whole thing is exactly that. He glances at Abbie. “So … if someone were to ask about it …”
She narrows her eyes. “Franco. Don’t even think about it.”
He chuckles. “Relax. I’ll be good.”
But as he heads back to the simulator, he can’t resist a smirk.
***
The meeting room is far more understated than you would’ve expected for something of this scale, tucked away in a discreet corner of a private suite in a London hotel. But it’s neutral ground, and it’s quiet, and no one outside this room will ever have to know about this awkward collision of worlds.
You’re early, of course. You’ve been pacing for the last ten minutes, scrolling through every frantic email your team has sent since this ridiculous rumor broke, trying to make sense of the tabloids’ spiraling narrative.
Franco arrives with a small entourage, though it feels like the entire room shifts the moment he steps in. He looks relaxed, perfectly at ease — too at ease. He catches your eye almost immediately, smirking as if he’s been waiting his whole life for this absurd situation to unfold.
“Princess,” he says, as if the word is a private joke just for the two of you. He holds out his hand, that ever-present glint of mischief in his eyes.
You don’t take it, instead clearing your throat and nodding a polite, “Mr. Colapinto.”
He drops his hand, unfazed. “Mr. Colapinto? Ouch. I thought we were past formalities, what with the whole secret romance thing.”
You stare, unamused, but he only laughs, taking a seat at the conference table across from you. He leans back, stretching his arms over the back of his chair, entirely too comfortable.
Abbie enters behind him, followed by Noora and two more of your advisors, who exchange a brief look with you before giving Franco a wary glance. The room feels divided: your side tense, professional; his side relaxed, as if they’re here for afternoon tea.
Noora clears her throat. “Thank you all for coming. We’re here to discuss … the situation between Her Royal Highness and Mr. Colapinto.”
Franco raises his hand like a schoolboy. “Just Franco’s fine.”
You resist the urge to roll your eyes. “I think it’s important that we treat this with the gravity it deserves.”
“Right,” Franco says, his tone playful. “Like a royal summit.”
Ignoring him, you turn to Noora. “What’s our best option? A joint statement? Something definitive?”
Noora nods, producing a folder from her bag. “Yes, we think a mutual statement from both parties would be the most effective way to dispel the rumors. The tone should be clear, respectful, and leave no room for interpretation.”
Franco grins at you. “So, no room for romance?”
You bite back a sigh. “Exactly.”
He leans forward, resting his chin on his hand as if studying you. “Pity. I thought we made a pretty good pair.”
You shift in your seat, folding your hands tightly in front of you. “This isn’t a joke. It’s an issue of public perception, protocol-”
“Protocol,” he repeats, as if tasting the word. “Can’t say I’m big on protocol. Haven’t you heard? I’m dating a princess now. Practically makes me royalty, right? Protocol doesn’t apply to me.”
You shoot him a pointed look. “Protocol applies to everyone.”
“Boring people,” he counters, grinning wider. “Which, by the way, you are not. I don’t buy it.”
You feel your cheeks flush. “I don’t think you understand the stakes here.”
“Oh, I understand perfectly. But, come on …” He gestures to the small group of advisors around the table. “Look at this! Two teams acting like we’re two PR disasters waiting to happen … it’s ridiculous. You would think we were in the middle of an international scandal.”
“We are in the middle of an international scandal,” you say, exasperated. “People think we’re dating. It’s a breach of public trust for both of us-”
He snorts. “You’re talking like I’m some kind of international criminal. Come on, Princess. It’s just a rumor.”
“It’s more than that,” you insist, struggling to keep your voice steady. “This rumor reflects on me, on my family. On Norway.”
He watches you, head tilted, a glint of something unreadable in his eyes. “And do you care?”
You frown, feeling that flush creep back to your cheeks. “Of course I care.”
“No, I mean, do you care about it — us? I mean, the rumor?”
There’s something disarming in the way he says it, like he’s testing you. You can’t help but hesitate, your well-rehearsed words slipping just out of reach.
“It’s my duty,” you finally say, straightening your shoulders, “to uphold my family’s reputation.”
He doesn’t seem impressed. Instead, he shakes his head, a bemused smile on his lips. “You’re so serious. Makes me think I really did pick the right princess.”
Noora coughs, clearly eager to refocus the meeting. “Let’s discuss the actual statement, shall we?”
You nod, relieved to move on, but Franco holds up a hand, eyes still locked on yours. “I just want to say, for the record … I don’t think I’d mind the rumors, if they were true.”
There’s a moment of silence, thick and uncomfortable. You can feel the curious stares of your team, the surprise on Noora’s face, the quiet snickers from Franco’s side.
“Mr. Colapinto,” you say carefully, “this is neither the time nor place for that kind of … remark.”
He shrugs, unbothered. “Who decides that?”
Noora jumps in. “We do. And as such, we have a preliminary draft we’d like to review with both of you. It’s brief and to the point, which is important.”
Abbie leans in, already reading over the statement. “The recent reports of a romantic relationship between Princess Y/N and Franco Colapinto are entirely false and without merit. Both parties are focused on their respective roles and responsibilities and have not been involved in any way that would support these rumors.” She looks up, pleased with herself.
You give an approving nod, glancing at Franco. “Short and factual. Perfect.”
Franco frowns, leaning back in his chair with an exaggerated sigh. “It’s a little … cold, don’t you think?”
“That’s the point,” you say flatly. “We’re supposed to be shutting down the rumors, not fueling them.”
He lifts an eyebrow, eyes gleaming. “How about something more like … while I have great respect for Princess Y/N and have enjoyed our time together, I can confirm that we are, unfortunately, just friends?”
You look at him, horrified. “No. Absolutely not.”
“Oh, come on.” He gives you a devilish grin. “It’s all about the narrative, Princess. People want romance, intrigue. You’re literal royalty — give them a little fairytale.”
You feel your cheeks burn, and it takes everything you have not to snap back at him. “This isn’t some soap opera, Mr. Colapinto.”
“Franco,” he corrects, eyes still dancing with mischief.
Noora clears her throat again. “I think it’s best we stick with the original statement.”
He gives you a mockingly solemn nod. “As you wish, Your Highness.”
You give a small, exasperated sigh, looking back to Noora and Abbie. “If we’re all agreed, can we proceed?”
Abbie glances between you and Franco, as if gauging the tension in the air. “Yes. We’ll finalize the statement this evening and have it released tomorrow morning.”
Franco pushes back his chair, rising to his feet. “Well, I suppose that settles it, then.” He glances down at you, his gaze lingering a bit too long. “Shame, though. This could’ve been fun.”
You fold your arms, giving him a pointed look. “We have very different definitions of fun.”
“Clearly,” he says, his smirk deepening. “But tell me, don’t you ever get tired of all this?” He gestures around at the meeting room, the stacks of paperwork, the solemn faces of your advisors. “The rules, the protocol. Doesn’t it get … dull?”
You purse your lips, resisting the temptation to give him a real answer. “It’s my duty.”
He tilts his head, his expression softening just slightly. “I get duty. But where’s the fun?”
You open your mouth to respond, but the words don’t come. And for a second, just a second, you wonder if he has a point.
Franco’s gaze sharpens as he watches you struggle to respond. And then, to your utter shock, he steps closer, his hand reaching for yours. “Here,” he says, with that sly, teasing smile.
Before you can pull away, he lifts your hand, bringing it to his lips in a slow, deliberate gesture. His eyes hold yours as he brushes his mouth over your knuckles, lingering just long enough to make you feel the heat creeping up your face.
“I promise,” he murmurs, voice low and smooth, “the next time I kiss you, Princess, it’ll be somewhere much more pleasurable.”
You pull your hand back, heart pounding, but he only grins, unbothered, and gives you a playful wink.
“Until next time, Your Highness.”
***
The bar is dimly lit, tucked away on a quiet street where no one knows who you are and, more importantly, no one cares. It’s the perfect place to slip away from the weight of your title, from the headlines, from the rules and the statement that your team is probably drafting up at this very moment. For once, you just want to sit here, nursing a drink, and pretend you’re anyone else.
The whiskey burns as it goes down, but it’s a welcome distraction. You let out a breath, easing back against the bar, feeling some of the tension in your shoulders release. For the first time all day, no one is watching, no one is whispering. You’re just … here.
Until a voice slides into the quiet like a warm breeze. “Didn’t think I’d find royalty in a place like this.”
You don’t even need to look to know it’s him. You don’t turn, but your grip on the glass tightens as Franco slides onto the stool beside you, looking annoyingly pleased with himself.
“What are you doing here?” You ask, not bothering to mask the exasperation in your voice.
“Me?” He says, all innocence. “Just having a drink. Same as you.” He signals the bartender. “Tequila,” he says, then nods at your glass, smirking. “And whatever she’s having.”
You sigh. “Of all the bars in London, you had to pick this one?”
He grins, shameless. “Maybe I just have good taste.”
You roll your eyes. “Highly doubtful.”
He chuckles, unfazed. “Come on, Princess. I know you’re thrilled to see me.”
“Thrilled isn’t exactly the word I’d use.”
He leans in, his voice dropping low enough that it feels like a secret. “What would you use, then?”
You pause, taking a sip of your drink as you consider. “Mildly inconvenienced.”
He laughs at that, a warm, genuine sound that catches you off guard. You try to keep your face impassive, but there’s something disarming about his laughter, something that makes you wonder why it feels like he’s always able to unravel you with so little effort.
“Fine,” he says, leaning his elbow on the bar, mirroring your posture. “Then I’ll just sit here, mildly inconveniencing you until you admit you’re enjoying yourself.”
You scoff. “That’s not going to happen.”
His whiskey arrives, and he raises his glass, clinking it lightly against yours. “Care to bet on that?”
You raise an eyebrow. “Do you always think everything’s a game?”
“Only when it’s fun,” he says, his gaze dropping to your lips. There’s something undeniably bold about the way he watches you, something that sends a little thrill down your spine despite yourself.
You hold his gaze, refusing to back down. “What exactly do you think you’re doing here?”
“I thought that was obvious,” he says, his voice turning softer, more intimate. “I’m trying to get to know you.”
You snort. “Get to know me? I’m pretty sure you just want to use this as an excuse to fuel the rumors.”
“Maybe the rumors are more interesting than you think,” he counters smoothly, sipping his drink. “Or maybe I’m just curious.”
“Curious?” You echo, lifting an eyebrow. “About what?”
“About what a princess does when no one’s watching.” His eyes flash with that familiar glint, and he gives you a lazy, unapologetic smile. “And so far, you don’t disappoint.”
You laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “If you’re trying to charm me, it’s not working.”
“Oh, I don’t need to try,” he says, his voice soft but self-assured. “I just do.”
You shake your head, determined not to let him win this little game. “I don’t think you’re as irresistible as you think you are.”
“Maybe.” He tilts his head, studying you with an infuriating level of focus. “But you’re still here, aren’t you?”
Your retort dies on your lips as his hand moves closer, resting just on the edge of the bar, fingers inching toward yours. It’s subtle, but it sends a pulse of awareness up your arm, and you’re suddenly very aware of how close he is, the warmth radiating from him, the intensity of his gaze as it lingers on you.
You straighten, clearing your throat. “So what’s your endgame here, Franco?”
“No endgame,” he says easily, but there’s a promise in his tone, a flicker in his eyes that makes it hard to believe. “Just wanted a drink with a pretty princess.”
You almost laugh. Almost. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”
“Is that why you’re smiling?” He asks, leaning closer.
You hadn’t realized you were. You quickly straighten your face, but he’s already noticed, that knowing smirk widening as he takes another sip of his drink.
“Relax, Princess. You’re allowed to have fun, too.”
“Define fun,” you say, though you’re painfully aware that you’re actually enjoying this little back-and-forth. It’s dangerous, exhilarating — two things you never let yourself indulge in.
“Fun?” He tilts his head, eyes sparkling. “Fun is you, sitting here, pretending you don’t like me, while secretly hoping I’ll keep talking.”
You roll your eyes. “Delusional.”
“Maybe,” he says, and his hand moves again — this time, resting casually on your thigh under the bar. The touch is light, but it’s enough to make your breath hitch, enough to make you momentarily forget the carefully constructed boundaries you’ve set.
“Franco,” you warn, though your voice is less steady than you’d like.
He raises an eyebrow, his fingers tracing a slow, almost absentminded circle against your leg. “Problem?”
You don’t answer, but he takes your silence as permission, his fingers edging just a little higher, teasingly close, as if he’s daring you to stop him. And you should. You know you should. But for some reason, you don’t.
He leans in, his breath warm against your ear. “Tell me to stop, Princess. And I will.”
Your mind races, every sensible thought colliding with the thrill that’s building inside you. You swallow, feeling the weight of his gaze, the heat of his touch.
“Why would I tell you to stop,” you say quietly, your voice barely more than a whisper, “if I don’t want you to?”
He grins, satisfied. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”
Before you can respond, he’s closing the distance, his hand slipping higher under your dress, his thumb brushing slow circles that make your heart race. It’s reckless and wild and nothing you’d ever thought you’d do — but in this moment, it feels impossible to resist.
The next few minutes are a blur of whispered words and stolen glances, your resolve slipping with every soft touch, every cocky grin he throws your way. You barely register the decision to leave the bar until you’re outside, standing on the quiet street, the night air cool against your flushed skin.
“Your place or mine?” He asks, his voice a playful drawl.
You hesitate, a thousand reasons to walk away tumbling through your mind. But when you look at him — at that unrelenting confidence, the challenge in his eyes — you feel your control waver. Just this once, you tell yourself. Just this once, you’ll let yourself break the rules.
“Yours,” you say, surprised at the steadiness of your voice.
He doesn’t waste a second, taking your hand and leading you down the street, his grip warm and solid, grounding you even as your heart races. You follow him, pulse pounding with each step, until you’re standing outside his hotel room door, the reality of what you’re doing hitting you in a rush.
But then he’s looking at you again, that mischievous smile softening into something more intimate, and your doubts fade. He opens the door, and you step inside, feeling as though you’re crossing some invisible line.
The room is dim, the city lights casting a faint glow through the windows. He steps closer, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch gentle, almost reverent, and for a moment, you see a different side of him — something softer, deeper.
“Last chance to change your mind,” he murmurs, his voice low.
You meet his gaze, feeling the weight of his words. But instead of answering, you lean up, closing the distance between you, your lips brushing against his in a kiss that’s tentative at first, then deepening as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you close.
And for the first time in as long as you can remember, you don’t think about duty, or protocol, or anything else. In this moment, there’s only you and him and the quiet thrill of finally letting go.
***
francolapinto
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francolapinto all the rumours are true
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pintobean everyone called me crazy for believing the articles but look who’s laughing now!
coca-colapinto because as much as i love franco, there’s no way i was about to believe he could’ve pulled a whole ass princess
pintobean this is a lesson not to underestimate his rizz
coca-colapinto please never say that unironically again
f1wagupdates pray for their PR teams, whatever they’re earning is not nearly enough 🙏
gridgossip franco had exactly nine races to turn the paddock upside down and boy did he not disappoint
f1wagupdates who needs an f1 seat in 2025 when you can have a throne?
***
The morning arrives far too soon, sunlight streaming through the hotel curtains and casting a warm glow over the rumpled sheets. You barely have time to blink yourself awake when a loud, frantic banging rattles the door, shaking you out of the haze of last night.
Franco groans beside you, his arm lazily draped over your waist. “You expecting someone?”
You’re too comfortable, too wrapped up in the warmth of his skin and the lingering bliss to even think straight. “Not … exactly.”
The pounding persists, and then voices — urgent, unmistakable voices — filter through the door. “Franco! Y/N! Are you in there? It’s urgent!”
Your eyes widen, a flash of panic cutting through the sleepiness. Franco doesn’t seem fazed. He barely lifts his head off the pillow, his hand lazily running down your spine as he mutters, “They’ll go away.”
“I’m not so sure about that.” You push yourself up slightly, glancing over the bed, finding discarded clothes and a vague sense of regret somewhere on the floor. The pounding grows louder, and finally, Franco sits up, rubbing his eyes, his hair adorably disheveled.
He stretches, glancing at you with a lazy grin. “What do you think? Just a few more minutes or …”
“Open the door!” Comes a familiar, exasperated voice from the hallway. You recognize it immediately — Noora.
Franco’s eyes meet yours, amusement glinting there. “Looks like we don’t have a choice.”
Reluctantly, he pulls himself out of bed, grabbing a pair of pants from the floor and slipping them on with a casual ease that only makes your heartbeat quicken. He tosses you a smirk over his shoulder before heading to the door.
As he opens it, a whirlwind of people floods into the room — Noora, Abbie, and a few more members of both your PR teams, all of them looking like they’re seconds away from losing their minds.
“Oh my god,” Noora gasps, her gaze darting between you and Franco, her face turning several shades of pink. “This … this is-”
“Completely reckless!” Abbie finishes, giving you a look that’s half shock, half scandalized admiration. “What were you two thinking?”
Franco crosses his arms, unfazed. “Good morning to you too.”
One of Williams’ other PR officers steps forward, looking ready to faint. “Franco, do you have any idea what you’ve done? Those photos … your Instagram …”
Franco grins, leaning casually against the doorframe. “What, people are talking?”
“Talking?” Noora squeaks, her voice an octave higher than usual. She glares at you, her eyes wide, almost pleading. “This is a disaster! Do you understand what you’ve done to our schedule, our statement plan? And the … the-” Her gaze flickers to the faint marks on your neck, and her knees buckle. Abbie reaches out quickly, guiding her to a chair.
“Maybe we overreacted,” Abbie mutters, though she doesn’t take her eyes off you. “Or maybe we didn’t react enough.”
You feel a rush of heat flood your face as everyone’s gaze lands on you. Franco catches it and gives you a cheeky wink, clearly enjoying the chaos he’s created.
“Look,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady, “maybe we got a little carried away, but it’s … it’s not like we did anything wrong.”
“Nothing wrong?” Noora says, her voice faint as she studies the marks on your neck again. “You … you have no idea how this looks, do you?”
Franco, completely unfazed, strolls over to the mirror above the dresser. He takes a long look at his own reflection, tilting his head to admire the scratches and darkening bruises scattered across his skin. “Looks like a good night to me.”
Your PR teams collectively groan, and you have to bite your lip to keep from laughing. Franco catches your eye in the mirror, and the mischievous spark there makes it impossible not to crack a smile.
“Franco, this isn’t a joke!” One of his managers snaps, practically pulling at his hair. “Do you know how many calls we’ve received since you posted those photos?”
Franco shrugs, giving them a lazy grin. “Then turn off your phone. Worked for me.”
Another round of exasperated sighs fills the room, and you can’t help but feel a twinge of sympathy for your PR team. Not enough, though, to actually feel bad.
Noora steps forward, hands on her hips, looking at you with an expression that’s somehow both sympathetic and stern. “Your Highness, this is … unprecedented. We need to issue a statement immediately, clarify this situation-”
“Or not,” Franco interrupts, his tone far too nonchalant. He turns away from the mirror, crossing his arms. “Honestly, I think the people like a little mystery, don’t you?”
Noora gives him a look that could wilt flowers. “This isn’t about what the people like, Mr. Colapinto. It’s about protecting reputations.”
“Oh, so we’re doing that now?” Franco glances at you, his smile playful. “Funny, last night I didn’t get the sense that the two of us in this room were all that worried about reputations.”
Your face flushes, and you shoot him a look that’s half reprimand, half reluctant amusement. “You’re not helping.”
He shrugs, unbothered. “Who said I was trying to help?”
Abbie lets out a long sigh, rubbing her temples. “Can we at least agree that this … whatever this is, stays here? Quietly?”
Franco raises an eyebrow, looking at you with a smirk. “You hear that, Princess? Quietly. Doesn’t sound like much fun to me.”
You swallow, trying to ignore the way his gaze makes your stomach flip. “Maybe some things should be quiet,” you say, though your voice sounds unconvincing even to you.
Noora, still looking a bit wobbly, clears her throat. “Please, can we just … make a plan?”
Franco sighs, feigning disappointment. “Fine. Make your plan. But don’t expect me to follow it.”
Before anyone can respond, he gives you one last smirk and strides over to the door, pulling it open. “In fact, I think it’s about time we had the room to ourselves, don’t you think?”
The PR teams exchange panicked glances, but they don’t have much choice as Franco gives them a not-so-subtle wave toward the exit. Noora opens her mouth to protest, but Abbie gently ushers her toward the door, casting one last look at you that’s a mix of concern and reluctant approval.
“We’ll be in touch,��� Abbie says, but there’s a hint of resignation in her tone, as if she knows that whatever control they thought they had is slipping fast.
Once the last of them has been herded out, Franco shuts the door with a decisive click. He turns back to you, a wicked gleam in his eyes, and before you can process it, he’s crossing the room, closing the distance between you in seconds.
“You know,” he says, his voice low and teasing, “I think we gave them quite a show.”
You roll your eyes, but you can’t stop the smile that tugs at your lips. “We? That was mostly you.”
He laughs softly, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from your face. “You didn’t exactly object.”
You’re about to respond, but he doesn’t give you the chance. His hands find your waist, and suddenly you’re being guided backward, the mattress hitting the back of your legs as he eases you down. His gaze is intense, his smirk fading into something more serious, more intent.
“Franco,” you murmur, but the way he’s looking at you steals the rest of your words.
He leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, then to the corner of your mouth. His voice is barely more than a whisper as he murmurs, “We’re not done yet, Princess.”
Your heart races as he shifts, his hands warm against your skin, his weight pressing you back into the bed. And as he leans down, capturing your lips in a kiss that’s somehow both playful and possessive, you realize that whatever the consequences, whatever scandal might follow … right now, none of it matters.
Right now, there’s only him, the quiet thrill of his touch, and the feeling of finally — finally — giving in.
***
The night sky over Las Vegas glitters with a million lights, bright enough to drown out the stars, as the drivers’ parade winds down the track. The grandstands are packed, the excitement in the air palpable even before the race has started.
Franco is perched atop the back of a bus, arms folded, his easy smirk in place as he surveys the flashing cameras and cheering fans. Beside him stands Lewis Hamilton, calm and collected as always, with that practiced smile of someone who’s done this a thousand times.
Franco nudges Lewis with his elbow, grinning. “So, you know we’re both basically royalty now, right?”
Lewis chuckles, giving him a sideways look. “Oh, yeah? What makes you think that?”
Franco shrugs, looking as if he’s contemplating something serious for a split second, then tilts his head. “Well, you’ve got the knighthood, Sir Hamilton,” he says, drawing out the words with an exaggerated British accent. “And I’ve got, well …” He grins, his eyebrows waggling suggestively. “The princess.”
Lewis laughs, a rich, full sound. “Ah, I see. So you’re actually out here trying to one-up my knighthood?”
Franco clutches his chest dramatically. “Exactly. I mean, not to make it a competition, but I’m basically a prince now. Which, if we’re being technical, puts me a bit above you in rank.”
Lewis lets out a snort, rolling his eyes. “Shut up, man. I’m a knight, not a court jester.”
Franco raises his hands in mock surrender, his grin widening. “Hey, I’m just stating the facts. I’m sure knighthood’s very nice, but I think there’s something to be said for having a princess.”
Lewis shakes his head, trying not to laugh. “So it’s true, then?”
For the first time, Franco’s smirk softens into something else, something quieter. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone, glancing at the screen with an expression that’s unmistakably fond. He’s not looking at Lewis now, or at the cheering fans, or even the flashing cameras around them. His gaze is locked on his phone, where an image fills the screen.
It’s you, cozy on the couch with your Cavalier King Charles Spaniel in your lap, a warm blanket wrapped around you, hair falling casually over your shoulder. You’re looking straight into the camera, a relaxed smile on your face, and there’s an almost surprising intimacy in the photo — the kind that doesn’t come from a staged royal portrait but from a simple, real moment. It’s the type of photo someone only sends to someone they care about.
Franco doesn’t say anything right away. He just stares at the image, his thumb tracing lightly over the screen, as if he’s savoring the private moment before he has to lock his phone away for the race.
He nods, almost to himself. “Yeah. It’s true.”
Lewis studies him slowly, an almost invisible smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Didn’t think I’d see the day,” he murmurs, a touch of amusement there. “Guess you’re growing up, huh?”
Franco finally looks up, chuckling. “Speak for yourself, man. I’m still a kid at heart.”
Lewis raises an eyebrow. “A kid at heart who’s dating a princess? That’s a combination I didn’t see coming.”
“Neither did I, to be honest.” Franco leans back, stretching his arms out along the edge of the bus, still clutching his phone in one hand. “One minute, I’m just minding my business, and the next … boom.” He snaps his fingers. “The entire world decides we’re dating. Didn’t even know her name before then.”
Lewis chuckles. “And now you’re on your phone looking at pictures she sent you. You’ve come a long way.”
Franco glances down at the picture again, a private smile playing on his lips. “Guess I have.”
The parade continues, the roar of the crowd swelling around them as they pass another section of the grandstand, but it all feels distant. The conversation falls into a comfortable silence, and Franco finds himself thinking back over the past few weeks, the whirlwind of rumors and statements, and then … the quiet moments that somehow followed.
Lewis studies him, eyes narrowing in that perceptive way he has. “So … you and her. Is it, like, official?”
Franco lets out a short laugh. “Are you kidding? This is Her Royal Highness we’re talking about. There’s no ‘official’ until we’ve been courting for at least a year. There’s procedure and … what’s the word she loves to use? Protocol.”
“Protocol.” Lewis grins. “That sounds … exactly like what you hate.”
“Oh, believe me.” Franco laughs, shaking his head. “She’s been trying to teach me, but I don’t think I’ve followed protocol a single time. I mean, she actually tried to tell me what utensils I should use at dinner. Like, why does it matter?”
“Didn’t go well, huh?”
“Let’s just say I’ve decided that those tiny forks are optional.” Franco sighs, pocketing his phone. “But that’s her. She takes it all so seriously. Makes me want to take it seriously too, in some strange way.”
Lewis tilts his head, watching him. “I get that. That’s what happens when someone really means something to you.” He pauses, as if weighing his words. “So, she’s watching tonight?”
Franco nods, a flash of pride evident in his smile. “She sent me this right before we went out for the parade.” He taps his pocket, where his phone is hidden now. “Said she’d be watching. Don’t know how she manages to get away with it, with her schedule planned out months in advance, but she’s … creative.”
Lewis laughs, shaking his head. “The lengths you two go to. Like some kind of fairytale romance.”
The bus they’re on takes another slow turn around the parade route, the lights of Las Vegas casting a surreal glow over the scene. The streets are packed with fans, all of them waving and shouting, and Franco finds himself wondering if you’re watching this right now. He imagines you, curled up on the couch with that fluffy little dog of yours, laughing at the absurdity of it all.
Franco smiles. “Yeah, I guess it really is.”
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derealizationns · 3 days ago
Text
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"intimacy"
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characters - katsuki bakugou x fem reader
synopsis - katsuki’s tough facade crumbles as soon as you two are together, and he loves every second of it.
genre - fluff!!! so much fluff 🥹
warnings - none 🫧
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katsuki loves intimacy. he definitely won’t show it, but he’s all for it. that boy is so used to being tough and everything, that it makes him crave those tender and gentle moments.
just imagine simple things like making dinner. the world seems silent, the only things you can hear are the shuffles of yours and katsuki’s slippers and the raindrops hitting the roof of your shared home. bakugou is chopping food on the counter, with you sitting beside him on top of the island, swinging your legs and just observing his movements.
your presence brings him so much comfort, though you aren’t even doing anything special. just the feeling of domesticity makes katsuki experience some weird warm sensation in his chest. he subconsciously smiles at that. it’s a faint smirk, but you still notice it.
after jumping off the countertop, you wrap your arms around his chest and place your head on his muscular back. he huffs with fake annoyance, but in reality, this gesture makes him incredibly happy.
“whatcha doin’, idiot?” he asks.
you roll your eyes at his question.
“i’m showing love to my incredibly strong boyfriend, don’t pretend that you don’t like it.”
at that moment, katsuki shuts up. he can’t lie to your pretty face, that would be cruel, so he just decides to remain silently enjoying your presence and warmth.
some other day, you are lying under the covers with your boyfriend. it’s saturday afternoon, meaning that you two have a day off, just for yourselves. bakugo decided that both of you should watch a movie that just came out, but truth be told, he didn’t even pay attention to it. the boy is simply staring blankly at the tv, visibly deep in thought. you quickly notice his weird behavior and decide to bring it up.
“kats?” you start.
his attention quickly switches to you, bright red eyes staring into yours curiously.
“what’s wrong?” the question falls from your lips.
his expression changes to one of slight shock. perhaps bakugou didn’t realize that he was visibly zoning out, or maybe he just didn’t expect you to mention it. after a few seconds of silence, bakugo finally speaks up.
“nothin’ is wrong, why you askin’?”
you sigh at his words. he is clearly hiding something from you. just when you wanted to scold him for his obvious lie, he speaks again.
“just thinkin’… ’bout how much i love you, i guess…” he starts, but he’s not looking at you anymore; his eyes are fixed on the ceiling. bakugo feels so embarrassed after he says this. the boy silently curses himself for speaking up.
you look at him confused but can’t deny the warm, fuzzy feeling in your chest. katsuki wasn’t the one to express his love so directly, and that took you aback.
“every memory i have with you makes me feel… weird. like, not bad weird, just… puzzled, i guess? i’ve never felt that way, so it’s hard to exp—” you cut off his rambling before he finishes.
“i know what you mean, kats. every moment, even the simplest and most boring one, stirs up something within you, am i right?”
your boyfriend sends you a shocked look. he didn’t expect you to read his emotions so well. you just said everything right! how is that possible? did you read his mind or something? or maybe… it was because those were the same feelings you have…?
“yeah… i think you’re right…” he mumbles, visibly embarrassed by this conversation, so you think it’s time to cut it off.
“but it’s a good feeling, right? like you’re not… overwhelmed?” you ask him worriedly.
katsuki shoots you a look that you think was supposed to be scolding.
“what? no, you idiot. it’s… it’s good, i like it.”
you smile at his words and tuck yourself closer to him, bathing in his warmth.
“that’s good…” you whisper and feel yourself slowly doze off, as bakugou leaves a soft kiss on your forehead.
you sleep soundly, dreaming about every soft and domestic moment you had with katsuki. and there were many more to come.
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. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ kirara’s notes . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁
thank you for reading this, hope you liked it! likes, follows and reblogs are greatly appreciated 🤍🫧
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harrysfolklore · 1 day ago
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i need a lando x brazilian!reader for sao paulo gp!!
persistence - ln4
summary: lando has the biggest crush on a brazilian model and he won’t give up until she gives him a chance
folkie radio: HAPPY LANDO DAY !! for some reason, my lando fics are always my least fave but i needed to post something for his bdayyyy, i hope you like this
MASTERLIST | MY PATREON
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liked by landonorris, sabrinacarpenter and 748,296 others
yourinstagram i ❤️ LA
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username1 THE FACE CARDDD
username2 if i looked like that i wouldn’t let anyone give me crap
username3 IT GIRL
alexademie Loved seeing you 😍
username4 brazilian women >>>
iamrebeccad 😍
username5 WHAT IS LANDO NORRIS DOING IN THE LIKES 😭
username6 lando i see you what are you up to
carlossainz55 Hermosa !
↳ username1 sometimes i forget she’s actually friends with carlos
↳ username2 ouuu maybe this is why lando is in the likes
↳ yourinstagram miss you carlitosss
madisonbeer pelase come more often loml 💘
↳ yourinstagram you should comento brazil miss!
username7 LINDA
username8 can’t believe we’re from the same country but i don’t look like this
alexandrasaintmleux ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥 you beautyyy
↳ username2 IT GIRLS FR
landonorris Pretty girl 😍
↳ username1 LANDO HELLO?
↳ username2 HES SO BOLD
↳ username3 yn not even replying 😭
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landonorris memories from my last time in brazil 📸
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username1 LANDOOOO
username2 HELLO SIR WTF
username3 what was the reason for this thirst trap NOT COMPLAINING THO 😭
charles_leclerc Who let the dogs out?
↳ username1 HELP MEEEEE
username4 lando norris what are you up to
username5 I WANT TO LICK HIM
mclaren Good start of the week 🙌
username6 confess lando who are you trying to charm
username7 HES SUCH A MAN
danielricciardo I’m looking respectfully
↳ username2 HE GETS IT
username8 lando posting a thirst trap from BRAZIL and not so randomly commenting on a brazilian model’s post LANDO I SEE WHAT YOU DO
carlossainz55 😂😂😂
username9 BE SERIOUS
f1gossip We’ll get to the bottom of this 👀
username10 i need to know how his brain works
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texts between carlos and lando
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yourinstagram somebody come get this man… i think he got lost in my dms
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username1 IT GIRL
username2 how bad i wish i was her
username3 the amount of random celebs that probably slide into her dms 😭
lizzobeeating those lyrics 🤌🤌
username4 SPILL DEETS
username5 expose them bestie expose them
sabrinacarpenter i’m still laughing
↳ brunamarquezine me too
↳ yourinstagram we all 🤫
username6 i need her bandana asap
username7 MESSY QUEEN
alexandrasaintmleux 😍😍 my style inspo !
↳ yourinstagram miss YOU are my style inspo we need to meet asap ❤️‍🔥
↳ username1 AHHH THIS CROSSOVER
carlossainz55 Forgive him… he’s just a boy
↳ iamrebeccad 😂😂
↳ username2 HUH WHATS THIS ABOUT???
↳ yourinstagram keep him humble carlitos
landonorris stunning 🤤
↳ username1 NOT THIS AGAIN
↳ username2 plot twist hes the man who got lost in her dms
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liked by daniel3.jpg, carlossainz55 and 355,836 others
lando.‪jpg i’ll take that as a compliment
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username1 LANDOOOOO
username2 he remember the password for this account
username3 WHAT DOES HE MEAN 😭
charles_leclerc 😂😂😂😂
daniel3.jpg mate im sure that’s not how it works…
‬ ↳ lando.‪jpg did i ask?
↳ username1 HUH LET ME IN
username4 WHAT IS HE ON ABOUT
username5 who’s attention is he trying to get with this post
username6 lando has been moving weirdly lately
carlossainz55 EMBARRASING
↳ charles_leclerc Please make him understand
↳ georgerussell63 😂😂😂😂
↳ username2 WHAT IS THIS
↳ username3 I NEED TO BE PART OF THEIR INSIDE JOKES
↳ username4 I HATE THEM
↳ lando.jpg can’t hear the haters
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yourinstagram monaco i am in you ✨
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username1 FACE CARDDDD
username2 the queen in monaco ? slay
username3 i know a certain mclaren driver will like to hear about this information
gigihadid 😍😍
madisonbeer MY GIRLFRIEND 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩
username4 SCREAMING
username5 her genes are really blessed
↳ username1 ofc she’s a brazilian
brunamarquezine Linda 💘💘
username6 don’t let lando norris find out
username7 LANDO X YN?? is this what i’m getting from this comments ??
↳ username2 more like lando thirsts over her but she ignores him
carlossainz55 No way! We should meet up
↳ yourinstagram i was about to text youuu carlitos
↳ username2 LOVE THEM
jacobelordi 😍
↳ username1 dream couple fr
alexandrasaintmleux FINALLY 🙌🙌
↳ yourinstagram can’t wait to see youuuu gorgeous sass won’t know what hit them
↳ username3 OMFG IT GIRLS MEETING
landonorris 🤤🤤😍
↳ username1 DUDE GIVE IT UP
↳ username2 LANDO PLEASE
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the grid but only the cool ones groupchat
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liked by username1, username2 and 8,649 others
f1gossip Lando was at Sass Cafe in Monaco tonight. Any theories of who the girl might be? 👀
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username1 MESSY LANDO
username2 he’s sooo 😭
username3 i need lando to look at me like that
username4 that happening to me could save me
username5 just fell to my knees
username6 isn’t that yn the brazilian model??
↳ username1 WAIT
↳ username2 you have a point
↳ username3 NO WAY 😩
↳ username4 wait a damn minute that’s her
↳ username5 WHY IS LANDO LOOKING AT HER LIKE THAY
username6 ooohhh i see 👀👀
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yourinstagram has added to their stories
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replies:
iamrebeccad I have major fomo right now 🥲
↳ yourinstagram YOU SHOULD’VE BEEN THERE
madisonbeer 😍😍😍
anokyai monaco loves you ✨✨
alexandrasaintmleux my new bff 💘💘
↳ yourinstagram i literally love you so much
landonorris miss you already 😍
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yourinstagram first time watching race cars 🏎️ good luck tomorrow to my dear friend carlitosss
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username1 OMGGGGG
username2 SHE WAS AT QUALI ?? SLAY
username3 wag energy
arianagrande 😍😍😍
username4 lando norris was found yelling
username5 THE FACT THAT SHES LANDO’S CRUSH THO
scuderiaferarri ❤️
username6 LANDO X YN FINALLY???
username7 she fits right in she should date lando
username8 WE NEED THE QUEEN AT THE SÃO PAULO GP
username9 the only girl that matters
alexandrasaintmleux Linda 😍😍✨
↳ yourinstagram eu te amo !
brunamarquezine 💘😍🙌
username10 BET LANDO FREAKED OUT
username11 okay but carlos looks so good
carlossainz55 Te quiero!
↳ yourinstagram 🥰🥰
iamrebeccad ❤️❤️❤️
landonorris the most gorgeous girl in the paddock
↳ username1 THERE HE IS
↳ username2 the fact that she has never ever acknowledged any of his comments has me dying
↳ username3 he has BALLS
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landonorris sent you a message request
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f1gossip Landinho is in full summer break swing ! The driver was spotted in São Paulo tonight 👀
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username1 LANDINHOOO IS BACK
username2 UMMM AM I READING THIS RIGHT
username3 he did not....
username4 yn just give this boy a chance we all know you keep him hanging
username5 WE WON
username6 he speaks portuguese and all now
username7 this man istg
username8 suddenly brazil is his favorite country in the world
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landonorris sent you a message request
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yourinstagram started following landonorris
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f1gossip Lando was spotted out and about in São Paulo tonight, but if you look closely, you might notice he's carrying a purse and a phone with a Rhode case. Was Landinho in a date with someone? 👀
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username1 LORD
username2 CUT THE CAMERAS
username3 lando dating a brazilian woman ?? UM YES
username4 IM SUDDENLY BLIND
username5 if it's not yn then we don't want it
username6 I NEED CONFIRMATION THAT HE WAS WITH YN
username7 oh to have lando norris carrying my purse and phone for me
username8 that's a MAN
username9 GOING INSANE
yourinstagram has added to their stories
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replies:
madisonbeer girl you're so messy but ily
↳ yourinstagram nice case right? 😙
alexandrasaintmleux Are we finally twinning in the paddock?
↳ yourinstagram we'll seeeeeeee
carlossainz55 Excuse me?
↳ yourinstagram hi carlitos
↳ carlossainz55 You really gave that muppet a chance?
↳ yourinstagram what can i say, he's persistent
landonorris Linda 😍😍
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liked by landonorris, bellahadid and 1,287,399 others
yourinstagram i heard something about race cars in são paulo?
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username1 STUNNING
username2 that's not face card that's face economy
alexandrasaintmleux 😍😍🙌
username3 LANDO THIS IS YOUR CHANCE
username4 future wag?
username5 COME ON LANDO SHOOT YOUR SHOT ONE LAST TIME
username6 if the rumors about her and lando are real....
madisonbeer my queen actually 💋
username7 THIS IS WAG MATERIAL
username8 how funny woud it be if she starts dating another driver when lando has been begging since forever
username9 LINDA
userame10 and when the queen graces interlagos with her presence
landonorris 😍😍😍
↳ username1 LANDOOOO
↳ username2 i respect him
↳ username3 you better win that mf race
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liked by username1, username2 and 4,088 others
f1gossip Our eyes are not fooling us, Brazil's national treasure is at the Interlagos circuit paddock with Lando Norris right now
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username1 OMFGGGG
username2 yall don't know the lore
username3 he actually did it....
username4 LANDO NORRIS I NEVER DOUBTED YOU
username5 i used to pray for times like these
username6 HES SOOOOOOOO
username7 lando norris the man that you are
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liked by landonorris, alexandrasaintmleux and 2,098,765 others
yourinstagram i told him we could hard launch only if he scored a podium in my country and he didn't so you'll never know who's this fine man 😙
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username1 STOOOOOPPP
username2 MESSY
username3 girl we know that's lando you fell for his charms
sabrinacarpenter 👀👀👀
username4 LANDO NORRIS YOU CHAMP
iamrebeccad 😂😂😂
username5 never doubting little lando norris again
brunamarquezine NO WAY
username6 im so lost whats going on
username7 from not getting a follow back to this LANDOOOO
carlossainz55 Ay dios mio 🤦‍♂️
↳ yourinstagram we love you carlitossss
↳ username1 i bet he refused to be lando's wingman so many times
bellahadid we have some catch up to do
username8 plot twist this is not lando
username9 THIS PICTURE IS SO HOT
username10 most iconic couple already
landonorris i wonder who that fine man could be
↳ username1 LANDO YOU DO THE HARD LAUNCH
↳ username2 i bet he's living
landonorris o mais linda 😍😍
↳ username3 LANDINHOOO
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liked by yourinstagram, oscarpiastri and 1,898,375 others
landonorris lost the podium but won something else. obrigado 🇧🇷
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username1 OMFG
username2 THIS MAN ISTG
username3 lando norris you're one little menace
charles_leclerc FINALLY
↳ georgerussell63 After years of being rejected
↳ danielricciardo Look at our boy go 🙌
↳ username1 HEEEELPP THEY ALL KNEW
maxverstappen1 You owe me...
↳ username2 I NEED THE LOREEE
mclaren 🧡
username4 THIS IS TOO ICONIC
username5 okay she's gorgeous
username6 persistence is key i guess
username7 HEEELP HE JUST COULDN'T WAIT
username8 lando dating a brazilian is such a win
yourinstagram you're a cutieeee i guess
536 notes · View notes
solxamber · 1 day ago
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Holding Them and Not Letting Go with: Housewardens + Jamil
a little something before i go all in for the milestone events <3
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Riddle Rosehearts
Riddle goes bright red the second you wrap your arms around him, stiffening in your hold like he’s forgotten how to breathe. He tries to splutter something coherent—maybe a reminder about PDA rules, maybe a request to know what’s going on—but his voice gets tangled up, and all that comes out is a confused murmur.
You don’t let go, though. Instead, you squeeze him a little tighter, prompting him to look down at you, his eyes widening with soft confusion. “Is… Is something wrong?” he stammers, gently pressing his hand to your shoulder, trying to read your face.
“Nothing’s wrong,” you answer with a warm smile. “I just love you, Riddle. That’s all.”
For a moment, he’s frozen. Just love him? He feels his heart stumble, so unfamiliar with this kind of simple, generous affection. In his childhood, hugs were formal gestures, love was measured and conditional—a reward to be earned, rarely felt freely. But here, with you… you’re holding him because you want to, with nothing expected in return.
Slowly, Riddle’s hands find their way to your back, and he pulls you close with a tenderness that surprises even him. There’s a quiet ache in his chest, an overwhelming mix of joy and disbelief, like he’s filling up with something he never knew he was missing. He clings to you, unable to speak, as though afraid that words might shatter the beautiful warmth settling between you.
You both stay like this, tangled together in silence. In this simple embrace, Riddle feels more seen, more loved, than he ever has before. It’s a feeling he wants to hold onto forever—a happiness he never thought he’d be allowed to have. For the first time, he feels completely at peace.
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Leona Kingscholar
You wrap your arms around Leona, your grip firm as if you’ve decided you’re never letting go. At first, he’s as stoic as ever, arching an eyebrow in mild confusion. “Oi, herbivore…what’s this all about?” he mutters, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
But when you stay silent, he lets out a chuckle, amused by your stubborn clinginess. “If you’re hoping to trap me, you might wanna try harder than that.”
After a few more moments, his teasing fades. You’re still holding him, your head resting against his chest, heartbeat steady against his. He tries to check if youre upset and realizes then that you’re not sad, nor do you seem upset; you’re simply content. When he starts to pull back to look at you, you give him a warm smile and quietly say, “I just…love you.”
The words wash over him, soft and simple yet deeply affecting. His expression shifts, from nonchalance to something much more vulnerable. To Leona, who’s spent much of his life overshadowed, unwanted, and fighting for recognition, the idea of being someone’s first choice feels like an impossibility.
And yet, here you are, holding onto him like he’s the only thing that matters. He swallows hard, not saying anything, but the look in his eyes says it all.
He finally allows his arms to come around you, drawing you in with more intensity than he’d probably ever admit aloud. His tail snakes around your waist in a protective loop, pulling you even closer, as if anchoring himself to you. “Don’t go getting mushy on me,” he mutters, trying to sound unaffected, but his grip tightens just a bit more.
But despite his usual attitude, he’s never felt this…full. Full of pride, full of warmth, full of something he’s struggled to admit he even wanted. And it’s all because of you, the one person who looked past his rough edges and stubborn exterior.
He chuckles softly, burying his face in your shoulder, whispering, “Guess you got yourself a lion for life, herbivore.”
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Azul Ashengrotto
Azul is hunched over his desk, papers and ledgers strewn around him, eyebrows furrowed as he works late into the night. He’s so engrossed that he doesn’t even notice you approaching until you gently climb onto his lap, resting yourself against him without a word. His body goes rigid in surprise, the usual control he wields over his composure completely shattered.
“Are you... feeling alright?” he asks, voice a little breathless, struggling to keep himself calm as you press your face into the crook of his neck. “Are you sick? Is there something wrong?”
You just shake your head, pulling back just enough to meet his eyes. “I just love you, Azul,” you whisper softly, a warmth in your gaze that sends his heart into overdrive. “And I’m so proud of you.”
With that, you wrap your arms around him again, holding him close, and suddenly, all the strength in him unravels. He hadn’t realized how much he’d needed this—how much he craved reassurance, wanted to know he was worth it.
All his insecurities, fears, and memories of feeling out of place resurface, but they’re softened by your presence, and with just one hug, you’re able to ease away all that self-doubt he keeps buried.
Without another word, he wraps his arms tightly around you, his grip firm and filled with an unspoken desperation. He clings to you as though you’re his lifeline, as though you’re the single steady point in his otherwise frantic world, and for a few moments, he allows himself to just feel—to let go of the worries, to set aside the constant weight of expectations.
The mountain of paperwork on his desk feels meaningless compared to the comfort you bring, and all he wants is to stay like this, holding you as closely as he can, reveling in the feeling of being loved for who he is.
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Kalim Al-Asim
Kalim is in his element, animatedly discussing ideas for his next big celebration. His hands gesture widely, his voice bright, detailing elaborate plans for decorations, food, entertainment—he's clearly in his happy place, and you can’t help but feel utterly captivated by his joy.
Without even thinking, you throw your arms around him, hugging him tightly mid-sentence. Kalim laughs, hugging you back with his usual enthusiasm, though a bit of surprise colors his expression when you show no signs of letting go. “Hey, is everything okay?” he asks, a smile in his voice.
You lean back just enough to grin up at him, eyes shining. “I’m perfectly okay. You just looked so radiant talking about the party—and I love you.”
He stares at you for a beat, completely dazzled, and then his face breaks into the brightest smile as he spins you around, laughter bubbling from both of you. When he finally sets you down, he pulls you close, cradling you like you’re the most precious thing in the world.
“I’m so glad you chose me,” he murmurs softly, his forehead pressing against yours. The simple joy radiates from him, a warmth and gentleness that wraps around you both. It’s a pure, unfiltered happiness that you feel too, knowing that you chose him, and he chose you.
You stay wrapped up in each other, reveling in that perfect moment, glowing with the warmth of shared love. For now, with his laughter filling the room and his arms securely around you, nothing else matters.
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Jamil Viper
Jamil walks into his room, the exhaustion from managing Scarabia weighing heavily on his shoulders. But before he can even remove his shoes, you’re already there, waiting for him. Without a word, you step into his space, your arms winding around him in a gentle but firm embrace.
His body relaxes instantly, the stress of the day melting away as you run a soothing hand down his back. The warmth of your touch settles over him like a blanket, but after a few moments, he notices you haven’t let go. The silence stretches, and his concern grows.
He pulls back just slightly, searching your face with quiet intensity. “Are you okay?” His voice is soft, careful, as though bracing for something serious.
You meet his eyes with a smile, your voice tender but full of affection. “I’m fine. I just… I love you. I’m proud of everything you do. You work so hard, and I see all of it. I just wanted to be here, with you.”
A deep warmth spreads through Jamil at your words, the weight of the day almost forgotten as he pulls you back into him. This time, his hold is even tighter, more possessive, as if he’s afraid that if he lets go, this moment will vanish. His face buries itself into your neck, and he inhales deeply, breathing in the scent of you—your presence, your comfort.
For once, he allows himself to fully sink into the embrace, no longer needing to wear his usual mask.
With you, he doesn’t have to hold back his feelings. For the first time in what feels like forever, he lets his guard drop, the emotional wall he’s spent building his whole life crumbling in the warmth of your arms.
“I could stay like this forever,” he whispers, the words barely audible as he holds you close. His voice is thick with emotion, a mixture of tenderness and longing. “I never want to leave your side.”
In the comfort of your touch, Jamil realizes something. He’s never felt more at peace, more cared for, than he does in this moment. He holds you tighter, savoring the feeling of being loved so deeply, so completely. No matter what happens, he knows this is where he belongs—in your arms, and with your heart.
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Vil Schoenheit
It’s been a long day, and by the time you reach Vil, all you want is to collapse into his arms. But before you can even speak, he’s already analyzing you, frowning at your slumped posture, the bags under your eyes, and the way you haven’t had time to take care of yourself. "Did you eat today? Are you even sleeping? Honestly, I can't—"
And before he can finish his lecture, you launch yourself at him, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck.
He catches you with his usual elegance, barely flinching. His lips curl in that slight, amused way, but the concern in his eyes softens as you cling to him, not letting go.
"Darling, What's wrong?" he asks, his voice taking on a gentler tone as he instinctively pulls you closer. You can feel the smoothness of his coat beneath your fingers as you bury your face in his chest.
"I missed you," you murmur. "I'm just happy to see you. I love you. And I love that you worry about me."
Vil’s chest tightens at your words, a soft, almost imperceptible sigh escaping him. He gently strokes your back, the movement slow, deliberate. “You’re something else,” he teases, his lips twitching, but there’s warmth in his voice. “You know you should’ve eaten something, and yet here you are, throwing yourself at me.”
His hands remain on you, though, pulling you closer, stroking your back with a tenderness he rarely shows in public. He may pretend to be exasperated, but the way his fingers gently brush the length of your spine betrays his true feelings. Deep down, he’s touched by how much you put up with him.
"You should be scolded for your own good," he starts, but it’s a half-hearted attempt. There’s no real bite to his words this time. Instead, he just holds you tighter, deciding that, just for tonight, you don’t need any more lectures.
“You’ll never be rid of me now,” he murmurs softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “And you’re welcome to lean on me, always.”
In the comfort of his embrace, you let go of the day’s stress, finding peace in the warmth of his arms. There’s no need for anything else, just this moment, just him.
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Idia Shroud
Idia’s explaining the intricate details of a new strategy, his eyes wide with excitement. But then, suddenly, you set your controller down and throw yourself at him in an unexpected hug, effectively cutting off his speech. His hair flares a brilliant shade of pink as his brain momentarily glitches, clearly unsure of how to process what's happening.
And he is in full panic mode. His mind, always working a mile a minute, goes into overdrive trying to figure out what he did wrong, or if he's somehow messed things up.
“Uh—are you okay?” he stammers, voice filled with concern but entirely thrown off by the situation. You don’t answer with words, just a soft smile as you bury your face in his chest.
“I love you,” you whisper, “and you’re adorable.”
He’s used to being alone, to being misunderstood, to retreating into his games and hiding from the world. But here you are, in his arms, embracing him for no reason other than that you love him.
Despite his anxious thoughts swirling, he awkwardly places his arms around you, his body stiff at first, unsure of what to do. It takes him a moment before he relaxes, and as he holds you, his mind starts to clear. All those fears—of not being enough, or of being too much—slowly fade away, replaced by something that feels warm and real.
You, who listen to him ramble about things no one else would care about. You, who understand when he’s not up for going out, who accept him as he is. He feels so undeserving of someone so kind, but at the same time, something deep inside him stirs. It’s happiness. It’s love.
His arms tighten around you as he buries his face into your hair, his heart racing with a mixture of overwhelming joy and disbelief. He’ll never understand why someone like you would choose him, but as long as you’re here, he wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.
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Malleus Draconia
Malleus stands before you, holding the gargoyle he crafted with such care, the stone masterpiece shimmering in the soft light. "This is for you," he says softly, his voice full of pride. His eyes shine with the unspoken hope that you’ll appreciate the effort.
Before he can say anything else, you wrap your arms around him, pulling him into a warm embrace. He freezes for a moment, unsure, before his own arms encircle you with surprising gentleness. He’s always craved touch, but the depth of affection you offer fills him with awe.
The two of you stand there, the moment stretching on in comfortable silence, until Malleus pulls back slightly, his eyes searching your face. "Are you alright?" His voice holds a hint of concern.
You smile at him softly, your words simple but filled with a warmth he rarely hears: "You mean the world to me. I love you."
Malleus's breath catches in his throat, and before he can think, his arms tighten around you. He pulls you impossibly closer, as if afraid you’ll slip away. His heart races as he feels the weight of your love, the pure acceptance and tenderness you give him. The loneliness he’s lived with for so long, the misunderstandings, the isolation—none of it matters now.
He’s here with you. You see him, not as a prince or a fae of great power, but simply as Malleus. And that, more than anything, fills him with a kind of peace he’s never known.
Malleus buries his face in the crook of your neck, holding you tightly as if to make sure this moment doesn’t slip away. "I will never forget this," he murmurs softly. "I will cherish you... forever."
In your embrace, he finds something he thought was impossible—a sense of belonging. He smiles, feeling the warmth of your love seep into him, and he knows he is truly loved.
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Masterlist
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5sospenguinqueen · 16 hours ago
Text
Matchmaking Brothers - Arthur Leclerc x Gasly! Reader
Summary: Having known each other since they were kids, Yn and Arthur only spent time together when their families rallied together for the sake of their older brothers. Recently, fans have noticed that they’re spending more time together than ever before. 
Warnings: None? Maybe swearing
Requested: Yes by @1800-love-me . asked for gasly reader and brothers best friend arthur. sorry but this is only a short one
Faceclaim: Madison Beer
F1 Masterlist
━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━
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yn_gasly posted a new story 
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arthur_leclerc replied don’t be like that  → you know you love having me → yn_gasly you ate all my crisps, begged me to order pizza and then cried because i “let you eat all that crap”  → arthur_leclerc but did you i make you laugh? → yn_gasly at your expense, yes → arthur_leclerc you’re meaner than when we were 12 → yn_gasly and you haven’t changed 
charles_leclerc replied don’t be like that, little gasly  → you know you miss us when we’re travelling  → yn_gasly what’s there to miss? → the bickering over racing? the sweaty socks left everywhere? competing over who can eat their pasta faster?  → charles_leclerc don’t deflect. i know you miss arthur → yn_gasly now i really don’t miss you 
francisca.cgomes replied send me that pic of pierre please
alexandrasaintmleux replied i’ll buy you a big glass of wine tomorrow 
pierregasley replied i hate you → i wish i’d smothered you with a pillow when we were kids → yn_gasly i wish you’d get out of my apartment
━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━
yn_gasly just posted
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liked by jackdoohan, estebanocon and others
yn_gasly come to alpine, he said. it’ll be fun, he said. now i’m alone whilst he gets ready for quali and kiks has abandoned me also 
1,980 comments
arthur_leclerc come to ferrari, it’s more fun
→ pierregasly don’t you dare
→ alexandrasaintmleux we have leo
→ yn_gasly on my way! 
→ user1 was it leo or arthur who convinced you?
francisca.cgomes i didn’t abandon you! i had to pee! 
→ yn_gasly i was left alone! 
user2 i don’t know how any one could leave her alone when she looks that good 
pierregasly i’m sorry that i have a job?
→ yn_gasly you should be. i have to suffer every race weekend because of you 
→ user3 we all saw how tense she was during q3
→ user4 but also the way you jumped when you realised he was into q3
jackdoohan i promise i won’t let you be alone next year 
→ yn_gasly and this is why you’re my favourite alpine driver 
→ estebanocon i haven’t left yet, you know :(
→ yn_gasly you’re my second favourite, estie 
→ pierregasly pierre erasure
→ user5 oo doohan’s got moves. arthur better look out 
user6 can the test/reserve drivers of f1 fight? ‘cause yn is so fine
arthur_leclerc just posted
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liked by alexandrasaintmleux, olliebearman and others
arthur_leclerc a stressful weekend that ended so well. what a special moment, couldn't be more proud 
1,699 comments
yn_gasly a huge congrats to charlie 🤍 so proud of you! i know you’ve dreamed of this day since we were kids. can’t wait to celebrate with you later 
→ charles_leclerc merci, little gasly ❤️
user7 can’t believe arthur managed to sneak in yn on a post dedicated to charles
→ user8 family friends my ass
→ user9 tbf she looked so good today 
→ user10 face card never declines liked by arthur_leclerc 
alexandrasaintmleux who’s that cutie in the last slide 
→ yn_gasly date me please
→ charles_leclerc whoa, when i said i wanted you to join the family, i didn’t mean by stealing my girlfriend 
user11 anyone else suspicious about his weekend "ending well" and then a pic of yn? 
→ yn_gasly his brother finally won monaco, babe. please go outside and touch grass. i just looked hot today 
→ user12 imagine getting called out by the queen herself
pierregasly why are you posting my sister’s cleavage, little leclerc?
→ yn_gasly why are you such an embarrassment 
→ arthur_leclerc i feel sorry for any man that dates you if he’s what they have to put up with 
→ jackdoohan i’d be happy to volunteer?
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pierregasly just posted
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liked by francisca.cgomes, alpinef1team and others
pierregasly the gasly’s and the leclerc’s 
3,310 comments
charles_leclerc my favourite french family 
→ yn_gasly i thought you were your favourite french family 
→ charles_leclerc i know where you live 🔪
arthur_leclerc why does everyone else get a nice photo and i get the one where yn is trying to tackle me into the harbour?
→ pierregasly i thought it was cute! 
→ user1 and we agree. now tell us they’re dating
alexandrasaintmleux 💕
user2 you can tell yn and arthur are the little siblings ‘cause neither of them got a face shot 
→ yn_ln apparently we’re not as attractive as the others
→ arthur_leclerc i disagree 
francisca.cgomes okay but me and alex look hot
user3 love how kika and alex are counted as the gasly’s and the leclerc’s
→ yn_gasly of course they are. they’re family 
→ user4 and which one do you count as part of? 😏
user5 yn and arthur look a little closer than friends ngl 
→ user6 no because the way that they’ve been closer than the two confirmed couples 
→ user7 they’re literally clinging to each other 
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arthur_leclerc just posted
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liked by scuderiaferrari, alpinef1team and others
arthur_leclerc grazie monza for some unforgettable memories 
2,009 comments
user8 if this isn’t confirmation that they’re together, i don’t know what is 
user9 she’s been converted? damn, he must be good in bed
user10 omg yn featuring in another grand prix post! 
user11 dick so good she forgot she was french
→ user12 ya’ll are unhinged but i can’t deny that this screams that they’re a couple
→ pierregasly i can’t believe i just had to read that 
charles_leclerc loving every outfit in this. nice to see all the family support 
→ pierregasly back off. she’s still my sister 
→ charles_leclerc for now 
→ user13 ???
yn_ln everyone calm down. we’re literally in the land of ferrari. it would be criminal not to support them
→ user14 but you’re french, not italian? 
→ scuderiaferrari you can’t fight the forza ferrari sempre 
pierregasly traîtresse! 
→ yn_ln well, i’m always abandoned in alpine. they treat me good in ferrari
→ alpinef1team we’re sorry. please come back to us. we’ll do better
→ francisca.cgomes please come back. i miss you yn
→ yn_ln oh yeah you all want me now
→ arthur_leclerc i’ve always wanted you
yn_gasly just posted
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liked by charles_leclerc, pierregasly and others
yn_gasly okay, guys. i did wear red for him
2,910 comments
charles_leclerc and i thought it was for me :( 
user1 arthur kind of confirmed this already with his post and saying he always wanted you 
→ user2 shush, we’re getting a glimpse into their relationship. don’t ruin it
arthur_leclerc and you look amazing in it ❤️
→ yn_ln almost as good as you do 
→ charles_leclerc but no one looks as good as i do 
→ alexandrasaintmleux just let them flirt, mon amour  
user3 the height difference between them is killing me
pierregasly you better tell him to keep his hands where i can see them
→ yn_ln you were the biggest advocate for us getting together
→ charles_leclerc no, that was me
→ pierregasly yeah until i realised he would be putting his hands on my baby sister! 
jackdoohan i guess i lost 
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requests are open!
i am currently away but coming soon; mark webber smau, lewis baby angst part 2 and a franco smau
tag list
@peachiicherries @rosecentury @c-losur3 @heavy-vettel @evie-119 @raizelchrysanderoctavius @lilorose25
646 notes · View notes
temiizpalace · 3 days ago
Text
☆┊THE POCKY GAME
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SUMMARY: playing the pocky game with your crush!
CHARACTERS: all dorms (-ortho)
GENRE: fluff
WARNINGS: cursing, suggestive? not really tho
NOTES: happy pocky day!! I think this game is actually really cute teehee. what’s ur guys favorite pocky? (mines the chocolate or matcha one 🙏🙏)
reader is g/n, reader is yuu
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GOES IN FLUSTERED, COMES OUT CONFIDENT
you caught him so off guard. he was just minding his own business, doing his thing, then suddenly you hit him with a game like this? really are you trying to kill him, prefect? does this count as a confession?? he feels hot, is his face red? he didn’t even know pocky day existed!
despite his internal panicking, how could he possibly say no to you? placing the biscuit between his lips, letting you have the chocolate side (or whatever flavor u want) like the gentleman he is. slowly, bite by bite his face inches closer to yours. his heart is killing him, but he doesn’t dare to lose. finally reaching to the midsection, his lips find yours, sharing a small sweet kiss before pulling away.
that was much more fun than he thought it’d be. how about another round?
riddle, trey, jack, kalim, silver, malleus
GOES IN CONFIDENT, COMES OUT A LOSER
he was so smug when you asked. say less prefect! he’ll play the game with you since you’re so desperate!
then suddenly he gets second thoughts once you both begin to bite down on the biscuit. little by little, the proximity between you two began to close, his heartbeat racing at the speed of light. thump thump thump. he could barely control his breathing and his palms were beginning to grow sweaty. by the time you’ve expected a kiss, he pulled away, feeling embarrassed and overwhelmed.
his cheeks were burning hot and there was a discerning look on his face that screamed flustered. with all the talk he had before, maybe this reaction was better than the anticipated kiss. but where’s the fun in that? you pull out another pocky stick, putting it between your lips for a second time with a devilish grin. you’re killing him, prefect.
ace, cater, ruggie, epel, sebek
A LOSER
had to think long and hard about playing. not cause he didn’t want to, but because he knows he’s going to humiliate himself in front of you.
so how did he find himself standing in front of you, with a pocky in his mouth, inching closer and closer to your face after each passing second? this. is. bad. he’s actually going to fail and look like a godforsaken fool. is his face red? it’s red isn’t it? he should’ve known better. not even halfway, he backs up, covering the lower half of his face with his hand.
please forgive him, but he might just DIE and EXPLODE if he hadn’t done what he just did. it’s not just about his safety, it’s about yours too. please don’t tease him he’s already so embarrassed for being a wimp.
he’s already weak in the knees just being beside you, kissing you would be a whole nother story.
deuce, azul, idia
A FUCKING TEASE
another smug one. except this one has plans to win and actually stick to it. rather than just standing in front of you, he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you in closer. you hesitate for a moment, taken aback by his bold actions.
the game grew intense, his eyes staring daggers into your own. you’re not even sure if he was blinking (he wasn’t). he took in your reaction, engraved it in the back of his mind, and plans to replay these moments like they were a cinematic masterpiece. just when you were about to pull away, his lips meet yours, sharing a breathtaking kiss.
your face was warm and wore an expression of shock. he loved it. ah, ah, ah, not so fast prefect. technically that was a tie! what’s a game without a winner? looks like another round is in order..
jade, jamil, rook, lilia
SOMEHOW A WORSE TEASE
pocky game? why would we want to do that when he could just do this?
cupping your cheek, he leans over and places a chaste kiss on your lips. it was a gentle kiss, contrasting with the way his hands traveled down to your waist, holding my you firmly in place. his eyes bored into you, enjoying your shock. he was smug. so smug. you could feel him smiling against your lips, leaning in closer and closer til you finally had the opportunity to push him away.
he only smirked in return, letting you go, grabbing a pocky and walking away as if nothing happened.
punch him. you wanted to punch him.
leona, jade, floyd, jamil, vil
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A/N: jamil was self indulgent ngl
date published: 11/11/24
© temiizpalace — do not copy, steal, or put my work into ai. thank you!
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woso-dreamzzz · 2 days ago
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Hair
Irene Paredes x Child!Reader
Summary: You help your Mami when she gets a red
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You’ve travelled with Mami for once.
Mama is at home with your little brother Matteo but you’re not really worried.
You’re a good traveller. Mami says so because you were born when she used to play in France so you’re used to going back and forth between countries. You know how to amuse yourself by playing or doing your homework or your reading.
Mami says you’re very responsible.
Since coming home to Spain and to Barcelona, you’ve not travelled as much. You’ve stayed with Mama at home even though travelling and going on planes is much more interesting.
You don’t know why Mami decided you could come with her this time but you have and you’re happy.
Or you were happy until Mami got her red card.
You’re not quite sure what happened apart from the fact that her leg was too high.
You know all about high legs.
At Taekwondo, your teacher explains all about how head shots are very dangerous because the head is a very important part of your body and that’s why people wear caps to protect them during sparring.
You’re still kind of small (but growing all the time!) so you’re not allowed to do any head shots of your own. But you know they’re dangerous and you know Mami is not going to argue her card even if someone else will.
“Mami?”
“Go back to the bench, squirt,” Irene says as she breezes past you to the locker rooms.
When you were younger, that used to work but you’re nearly eight now and Mama says you’re moving under your own power so you think that means that Mami’s orders don’t work on your anymore.
“No!” You say stamping your foot right in the tunnel.
Irene scrubs a hand over her face as she turns around to face you. “I don’t have the patience to deal with a tantrum right now, squirt. Go back to the bench and finish watching.”
You stamp your foot again. “I’m not having a tantrum, you’re having a tantrum!”
Irene sighs. “If you come with me now, you’re not allowed back out. We stay in the locker room. But you can keep watching the match if you head back outside.”
Your foot goes again. “With you.”
You’d inherited her stubbornness, Irene notes. Her hair. Her eyes. The tight set of her jaw. And her stubbornness.
Irene holds her hand out for you. You take it.
You’re a different beast to your brother.
Matteo is still small, still practically a baby. She and Lucia had been worried about the age gap between you both. At nearly eight, you towered over him with your toys and your rambunctious nature.
You were not unlike Lucy and Keira’s (and increasingly Ona's) Pup but maybe a bit lower energy now that you’re gotten older. More disciplined is what Lucia would say, now that you’ve had your energy redirected into Taekwondo. Disciplined and strangely emotionally intelligent.
Irene supposes she should pat herself on the back with that. She’d never agreed with hitting kids even if it’s a little scuff on the back of the head to redirect them. No whacks, no spanks, no hits.
She talked your through your emotions and now that you were older, you were able to talk her through them too.
You hold her hand now as she walks back to the locker room.
“Mami, are we showering?”
“Aren’t you a bit too old to shower with me, squirt?” She teases, grabbing her toiletries and a towel. “You’re nearly eight now.”
You puff out your chest at the reminder. “I’m not going in with you! Just wanted to know.”
“I’m going to shower. You can take a shower if you want but you have to come into mine if you’re going to be washing your hair.”
You tug at the end of your braid.
Lucia likes your hair long and Irene has to admit that she does too.
You’d come out with a full head of hair, screaming and crying your arrival to the world as Irene panted from all the energy she’d spent pushing you out. Screaming, crying, with thick hair as you were gently rest on her chest.
Your hair had remained just as thick as then, growing quickly to the point that regular trips to get it cut were needed.
But washing it was always a challenge. Lots of shampoo. Lots of conditioner. Lots of time spent in the tub trying to get it all washed.
It’s part of the reason why it’s done in the morning too. You hate the hairdryer but you hate sleeping with wet hair even more so washing it is always done in the morning so it can air dry before bed.
“Wash my hair?” You ask and Irene nods.
“You’ll have to shower with me then if we’re washing your hair. Is that okay?”
You nod. “Uh-huh.”
“Alright, squirt. Let’s go.”
Irene’s original plan was to drown herself in the shower, to stay there until the match was over and she could finally face her teammates again. The red card was justified, she knows that but it doesn’t mean there isn’t still a bit of a sting.
She was happy to leave you on the bench, safe with the others so Irene could wash away her anger and resentment while you were occupied.
But now you’re here with her, asking to have your hair washed and looking up at her like you just know she needs something like this to keep occupied.
It’s an easy routine to get through, to lather her hands with shampoo and massage it into your scalp. To wash it all out before moving onto the conditioner.
Two rounds of conditioner and you look up at her with a smile.
“I can wash your hair now, Mami?” You ask and Irene laughs, pushing away the wet strands from your face.
“I think you’re a little small to be doing that, squirt.”
You puff out your cheeks. “Are you sure? I’ve definitely grown since Mama last measured me!” To demonstrate, you stretch up to your tiptoes and reach as high as you can.
“Maybe when you’re taller,” Irene says placidly,” Come on. Grab your towel and we’ll get out.”
Irene’s just gotten yours and her own clothes on by the time that everyone else has arrived.
“Whoa,” Jenni says as she comes in,” You’re dripping everywhere, squirt!”
Irene sighs as she turns around. “You should have seen just how wet it was earlier. Absolutely everywhere.”
“We can tell,” Codi snickers,” There’s a river to the showers.”
“I’ve braided it back again,” Irene offers up weakly as she watches Alexia crouch in front of you.
“You know you’ll have to sleep with that wet hair,” Alexia reminds you.
You giggle. “No, I won’t. We call Mama and Matteo tonight. Mama will see my hair. She won’t let Mami put me to bed with wet hair. She says it’s naughty.”
“Devious,” Alexia says approvingly.
You high five her and look back at Irene, who shakes her head fondly at you.
“We’ll be having words about your eversion to the hairdryer.” She wiggles her finger teasingly at you and you grin.
You stick your tongue out. “You have to talk to Mama first.”
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needsdean · 3 days ago
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THIS. THIS. THIS IS EXACTLY WHY THIS SCENE OF THEM IS MY FAVORITE, I KNOW THE WHOLE DIALOGUE BY HEART.
And the fact Merlin tells him "I wish I didn't... but I do" and looks at him ON PURPOSE to make Arthur figure that "I understand what you're saying because I'd do the exact same for you". AND ARTHUR SMILES THAT WAY BECAUSE HE GETS IT. AND HE'S SO PROUD AND HAPPY AND HEARTENED, THEY MAKE ME
I L L
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There’s something so sweet about this scene. Not only Arthur is surrounded by his knights, his friends, he still can’t seem to forget there’s someone missing.
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And the way he approaches Merlin is nothing funny or sarcastic: it’s pure concern, it’s love, it’s respect.
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Merlin admits he’s scared, without thinking about it twice, because yes, this is Arthur, the same man who makes fun of me on a daily, but he’s also my best friend, the man I love, and who I could lose, but I can’t tell him, but, oh God, if he needs to know I don’t want him to die. I’m the most powerful warlock on earth, yet I’m scared of Morgana, because she wants to kill Arthur, and I’m weak when it comes to him, I’m scared I won’t be able to protect him as I should (especially since Merlin has heard the prophecy that spoke of Arthur’s bane).
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I like Arthur’s stunned face. Merlin is referring to his life. “You don’t care you could die?” And not only Arthur is shocked by it, because he thought Merlin knew his reasonings by now, knew that Arthur would never risk losing his knights, losing Merlin. But Arthur doesn’t care as long as his men are safe, as long as Merlin’s safe (because, let’s be honest, this conversation is nothing but a way for them to tell each other how they feel towards one another, without exposing themselves to the danger of this revelation). And Arthur needs to make something clear:
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“Only about you.” Because Arthur brings Merlin everywhere like he’s a solider, a warrior, someone who knows how to fight with a sword, who’s an asset to Camelot and the kingdom itself, so he considers him an equal, someone he can sit with on a lower step and chat with about his fears, because he can be vulnerable with Merlin. Arthur knows he’s safe with him.
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Arthur includes Merlin in his speech, and this is something that could mean, “Oh, so Merlin isn’t a friend, isn’t a brother, he’s so much more.” This scene is so impactful, because it’s one of those rare moments where Arthur shows how deeply he can love, how much risk he’s willing to take to bring peace to his kingdom and to his people: to the ones he loves.
And he knows his knights, he knows Merlin won’t abandon him, because he has never done it, and Arthur truly believes Merlin has no reason to do it now, even if he’s scared. It’s as if Arthur is asking, just to make sure, just to have the confirmation that they think the same of it.
And they do:
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I wish I didn’t understand how much I’m willing to risk, and have already risked for you. Because this is why I’m here: for you and only for you.
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The self deprecating smile, because Merlin can’t back down, he never will. He’s so frightened, yet not even the prospect of battling against Morgana and her army will make him run.
He has Arthur to protect.
The way he smiles, it’s as if he’s saying, “Why didn’t I understand this sooner? Arthur’s just like me.” But it’s the fact that they told each other this, they know now, after ten years, that they’re willing to do anything and more for the other to stay safe, to be alive, even if one of them isn’t.
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Merlin tells Arthur. He watches him intensely, because Arthur needs to understand. He’s honest.
Arthur gets it, and he’s finally happy. He’s relieved that Merlin won’t abandon him, that he will stay by his side, like he always is, protecting him, fighting with him, and helping him.
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Arthur smiles at Merlin like he’s seeing him for the first time, and he falls in love with him just that tad bit more.
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fastandcarlos · 22 hours ago
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The House Of Piastri : ̗̀➛ Oscar Piastri
summary: the one where you and oscar move into a place that you can finally call your own
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“Welcome to the house of Piastri!” Oscar chimed, turning the key and opening up the place that was finally yours. “Our very first home,” Oscar grinned, throwing his arm across your shoulders, pulling you in. 
It was far from perfect, there were moving boxes everywhere, little decoration, and many of the rooms were uncoordinated, but it was your place. Just for you and Oscar. There was no one else around, nothing to interrupt you both anymore. 
“Where do we begin?” You laughed, pressing your fingers to your temple. “What have we signed ourselves up for?” You asked Oscar, glancing across at him. His smile was wide, a lot more optimistic than you were at the adventure that you had ahead of you. 
When Oscar suggested the two of you think about finding your own place after moving to Monaco, you jumped at the chance. It was a big deal for you both, having only ever lived separately before, but after leaving home in order to support Oscar, you knew you couldn’t be alone. 
“Doesn’t it just feel right though?” Oscar whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “I can already see how amazing it’s going to look, even if it doesn’t look that way right now.” 
Your head nodded in agreement with Oscar, no doubt that it was a place you’d feel happy calling your home. You and Oscar had so many plans, you’d spent hours awake at night talking through your ideas, searching online for some inspiration of what you’d like. 
“The view is beautiful too,” you hummed, taking a few steps forward across the room to where your balcony was. “I don’t think I’ll tire of looking out here, it’s beautiful.” 
“Almost as beautiful as you,” Oscar chimed, watching as your eyes rolled. “What? I’m only being honest; it doesn’t quite compare to you.” 
Oscar took your hand again, leading you across to where the sofa was just beside the balcony. You sat against his side, back pressed against his chest as Oscar rested his head on top of yours. It was about the only piece of furniture that you had built and ready to go, having taken most of the day to get it delivered and set up, but it left you both excited for all the hard work that was to come.  
It felt like a dream as you looked around the apartment, neither you or Oscar could quite believe that you were finally there, after months of planning and waiting around. 
“Imagine how beautiful this is going to be soon,” Oscar whispered into your ear, “I can see us spending forever here, growing old, maybe even raising a family too.” 
Your eyes widened as Oscar spoke, not quite knowing what to say. He felt your body tense up, worried that maybe he’d said the wrong thing, got too ahead of himself in amongst all of the excitement of moving in. 
Oscar mumbled an apology across to you. “I didn’t mean to say that, it’s just a maybe one day kind of thing. I guess I’m just excited for the future now that we’re finally here.” 
It wasn’t that you were scared, but you’d never really heard Oscar talk about your future plans before. You were both so young, and had so much time ahead of you, although you knew most of your time now was going to be spent building, decorating, and trying to get your home look a little more homely.  
“Don’t be sorry,” you smiled up at Oscar, “there’s no need to be sorry. I like that you’re thinking about these sorts of things. Forever is a long time though; we don’t know where the future is going to take us.” 
“I’d live anywhere as long as I had you with me,” Oscar mused, “I’d live in a rubbish bin as long as you were there, even if you would end up smelling a bit.” 
“Moving in has really got you thinking about things, hasn’t it?” 
Oscar nodded, kissing against the top of your head. “I guess moving in with you has made me so happy, I’m just excited now for what’s going to come next.” 
“I’ll give you a clue...a heck of a lot of painting,” you teased. 
It was going to take many hours to get the apartment as you wanted it, but you and Oscar knew that together you’d get it done. You didn’t want the easy option when it came to finding your home, but even this was a harder challenge than either of you could imagine. 
“Think about all the memories that we’re going to make here,” Oscar spoke, “we’ll be able to have friends over, family can stay when they visit, and just stay here together too.” 
It was a big move, not only had you found a new city, but you’d found a new country too. Luckily for you, many of the other drivers who were already out there had been more than willing to help you out, offering their services whenever you needed them. 
“I think once we’re unpacked and decorated, I’ll feel happier, your mum would be mortified if she knew we were living here with the state of this place right now,” you replied. 
“She can’t wait to visit,” Oscar laughed, “I think she might be more excited than us about this.” 
Everyone around you couldn’t wait to see you move in together, you were inseparable at the best of times and it was only a matter of time. Your parents, and Oscar’s, especially had pushed you to move in, desperate to see you in a place you could call your own. 
“It’s going to be crazy, but there’s no one else I’d like to move in with and decorate my first home alongside.” 
Your head nodded in agreement with Oscar, as terrifying as it was, you were beyond excited too. Your vision was clear, and one thing you were absolutely confident of was the fact that you were absolutely going to love living there, especially with Oscar there too. 
“You know, when all of this is done, we’ll be able to sit here and think about how lucky we are.” 
Your head tilted back to look up at Oscar, “I already feel lucky enough as it is. You’re here, and we’re in Monaco, what could be better than that?” 
“I really do appreciate you moving all the way out here to support me,” Oscar whispered, “not many people would move across the world for their partner. It’s a huge sacrifice to make, I just hope that it’s worthwhile being here for you.” 
“It’s worth it, wherever you go, I go,” you replied, reminding him of the promise that you made to each other. “Anyway, Monaco is definitely the place that feels like home now too.” 
Oscar glanced down with a smile, “there’s nowhere else I’d rather be than here with you right now. I think I could get used to living here, with you.” 
“I agree, this is beyond anything that I could have ever dreamed of.” 
“It’s not just an apartment anymore, it’s our home,” Oscar said, “a place we can finally call our own.” 
“The house of Piastri, it’s perfect.” 
˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗
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cinnamorollcrybaby · 18 hours ago
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Am I the only one that things that sator would be just so cute like if he got a little bit of a tummy? nothing major he'd still look the same everywhere else just soften up a bit around his belly. I think it be nice to touch while cuddling.
(This was anon request that was sent in for cinna but cinna deleted it since they made a mistake and the request had disappeared)
LMFAO let’s try this again… sorry again for accidentally deleting the request!!!
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i actually think you’re so right anon.
i imagine that after being put back together after the incident of 236…. satoru’s forced to retire. his friends and peers love him, but it’s time for him to relax and not worry about being the strongest anymore. they can take it from here.
while he’s relaxing during his retirement, he finds that his love for the sweets you bake stays incredibly high while his routine for working out slowly starts to slip…
he doesn’t have to be the strongest anymore, right? he can slack a little…
and his body naturally grows a bit of scar tissue, and maybe some fat around the scar that hugs his lower belly. it’s a natural preventative measure that the body takes on it’s own.
when he looks in the mirror after a shower, he sees a small bit of pudge around his lower belly, and he pokes at it with a small frown on his face. he’s still toned, but he’s not chiseled anymore.
was he letting himself go? were you going to notice? what if you didn’t love him anymore?
you step into the bathroom, being the pervy girlfriend you are, you can’t resist the charm of seeing your handsome boyfriend with just a towel wrapped around his waist.
“hey- i’m glad you’re here. can i ask you something?” satoru asks in an uncharacteristically serious tone. you tense a bit, wondering what he might ask. was he not enjoying retirement? was he already trying to go back?
“go ahead, honey.” you prompt.
“are you into bigger guys-?”
you gape at him, wondering what kind of fucking question was that. you have to crane your head up to look at your boyfriend. it should be pretty obvious how you like your men.
seeing your expression, satoru lets out a laugh. he pokes his stomach again. “i think you’re trying to fatten me up on purpose, sweets… makin’ all those delicious desserts. you know i can’t resist them. evil, evil woman.” he teases with his signature lopsided grin.
“you caught me.” you play along, letting out a small laugh. you look down at where the towel is sitting snuggly along his hips. the scar from the attack is staring back at you, but you don’t feel fear when you look at it anymore. you see your husband: happy and healthy.. finally not putting his body in duress to protect the world.
dropping to your knees, you press sweet kisses all along satoru’s tummy, making him giggle and shy away from you. “stop it! that tickles! sick, evil woman! evil!”
it’s safe to say that satoru is loving retirement, and you’re loving it too.
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0mg-bird · 1 day ago
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Lover’s Rock~ S. Reid
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Spencer Reid x Fem Reader
Summary: Spencer isn’t the only one that stands out in the crowd, but maybe that’s a good thing, because that’s what leads him to you.
Warnings: I didn’t really proof read, I’ll do it later lol. 18+ content towards the end. Um Reid is such a dweeb and adorable???? Fluff, mentions of alcohol and embarrassment. Reader is so twee (can we bring twee back or no?) idk she makes questionable fashion choices.
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Really, this wasn’t your thing.
The bar scene, the club dresses all the girls where, the high heels and the whole game of cat and mouse that all the guys want to play. But you’re here, you made an effort to appease your best friends who claim you have no social life.
The entire night so far, they watched you strike out with the guys they motioned over because in their mind, you’re desperate and lonely and lame.
Okay, maybe that’s more of your headspace than theirs, but they’ve been offering you pity glances this whole time.
You’ve made a decision a while ago that maybe there was no romance out there for you. You were just born with some aspect that made normal, sane guys physically run away, and maybe that’s fine. You were really good on your own. And it never did feel right when you had a guy, if it didn’t feel like the movies, it wasn’t worth it.
Right?
Okay, maybe you should settle, at some point, you’ll be too old to marry and you’ll just keep working, with no real life and take care of Shelly, your goldfish. Maybe it won’t be perfect, but it’ll be someone to share things with.
You let out a huff and watch the ice melt in your drink, not bothering to smile when your friend tells you to brighten up.
Normally, you’re a ray of sunshine, but something about getting rejected four consecutive times is raining on your parade.
An entire bar full of happy people in their element, and it’s just you, sticking out like a sore thumb, especially when your friends go dance with a few guys they hit it off with.
Too busy looking at the buckle on the ankle strap of your heel, you are sinking somewhere in your mind, to a place where you aren’t listening to cheap song lyrics of and realizing that table is stickier than you thought.
“Where’s Reid?”
“Reid.”
“Spencer!” Penelope smacks his shoulder, pulling him from the trance of his eyes on the book pages.
He looks up from the corner booth, seeing his team has returned with drinks.
“Are you seriously reading right now?” Morgan criticizes, placing a beer in front of the younger agent.
Spencer doesn’t know why he does this, beer tastes like a plowed hay field in his opinion. But he takes the drink in gratitude and before he can explain that he was just trying to finish the Russian publishing of ‘Crime and Punishment’, Morgan rips the book from his hands and tosses it to Emily for safe keeping.
“I- what was that for?” Spencer questions with a unjust squeak, feeling rather sad.
“Look around, kid, do you see how many fine ladies are here? You don’t need to be sitting here with your nose between the pages of Little Women.” Morgan states as a matter of fact.
“Yeah, nobody puts baby in the corner.” Penelope agrees.
With an airy scoff, Spencer looks to the other members for help, but they all seem to side with Derek.
He gains a defeated frown.
Spencer didn’t want to be here in the first place, now he’s being forced out into the public to socialize. There has to be a law against this, he knows there’s not because he knows everything, but he is certainly going to try and create one.
“Oh come on, Spence, why don’t you try to get a date?” JJ asks, meaning well, but the laugh that comes from Emily makes him want to recoil.
“C’mon, I’ll help you.” Morgan offers, pulling him from the booth seat.
“Yeah, that never really works well when you try to be my wingman, you usually end up with all the phone numbers.” Spencer claims, pressing his lips into a line.
But like some mock savior, Morgan stands behind Reid as they wait by the bar.
“What about her?” Morgan would point out.
To which Reid would respond with some variation of ‘she’s too much’ or ‘she definitely has a boyfriend three times my size’.
After fifteen minutes of this back and forth, Morgan is seriously regretting he forced the hermit out of his shell.
And that’s when a rowdy group finally leaves and clears the path of vision to you.
Still sat at a high table with one leg crossed over the other, you wiggle your foot as you doodle on a drink napkin.
Reid misses whatever Morgan says, and in that air of silence, the agent follows the vision.
“Okay, now we’re getting somewhere.” Derek chuckles, clapping Reid on the shoulder. “She’s pretty. Go talk to her.”
“What?” Reid looks away. “No, no, I don’t want to disturb her.”
You let out a very bored sigh.
Derek’s brows furrow. “I know you’re some boy genius but you really are dumb sometimes. Everything about that girl is screaming ‘put me outa my misery’.”
Spencer tilts his head slightly, watching you rub your eye and then frown at the way you smudged your already smudged eye liner.
“Okay, maybe you’re right.” He nods. “But…what do I say?”
Derek grins. “Compliment her, ask if she wants another drink, strike up a conversation. It’s easy, man.”
Spencer gets an uneasy feeling in him, but he still braves through it. “Easy for you, maybe.” He mumbles before running a hand through his hair and takes a step towards you.
“Go get her, tiger!” Morgan encourages.
When he returns to the team with the happy news, Penelope asks if Spencer’s gonna do good.
“Oh, definitely not, we’ll be lucky if he doesn’t trip over his own feet on the way over there.” Derek answers, laughing.
But Spencer makes it to you without a stumble, yet his whole plan leaves his mind when he gets to you.
You’re gorgeous, too pretty for him.
“Nice legs.”
Did he just say that?
You look up at him upon hearing his voice, your wide eyes confused.
“I’m sorry?” You question, not sure if you heard this stranger correctly.
He’s a rather handsome stranger.
“No- I mean I like your legs- tights! Not your legs, you have nice legs of course but that’s not- your tights are nice- cool! Different?”
Oh god, he should just walk away now. He’s already messed this whole thing up and surely you think he’s an idiot.
While he’s got an embarrassed look on his face, you look down at the red lace tights you wear under your skirt, something your friends questioned as a fashion choice.
“You really like them?” You ask, voice soft to his ears.
He stops his rambling.
“Yeah, of course I do, I think they’re cool.” He smiles softly.
You can’t help but grin bashfully.
“Every guy I’ve talked to tonight thought they were a little weird, but that’s okay, I kinda like weird.” You admit, watching as he shakes his head.
“People say my socks are weird all the time, don’t feel bad.” He comforts, pulling the material of his pants up so you can see his mismatched socks with funky colors and prints on them.
“Those are cool.” Your approval eases him, giving him just enough reassurance that you aren’t going to scream for help in the next two minutes.
“I’m Dr. Spencer Reid- sorry, force of habit, uh, just Spencer. I-I’m Spencer.” He introduces with the smallest of wave.
Still smiling more than you have the entire night, you greet him. He repeats your name like it has some special meaning, and you’ve never loved the sound of it more.
“I was going to get a drink, what are you having?” He asks, looking at your sweating glass. “Vodka soda? Cherry sour?”
You blush. “It’s actually a shirley temple…I just ate all the cherries out of it already.”
Without hesitation, he nods. “Okay, I’ll be back.”
He leaves you at your table, and then your brief moment of sunshine is clouded once more by doubt. What if he doesn’t come back? What if he drugs your drink and then you wake up in an alley somewhere, missing your wallet and phone and your tights that he thinks are so cool?
This was a bad idea. Dating isn’t for you. He seemed so nice and he’s so attractive but that should have been your first red flag and-
Oh. He’s coming back.
With two shirley temples.
He places them on the table and waits for you to grab one, then he grabs the other and takes a sip.
“You mind if I sit?” He asks.
Feeling a little silly for assuming he was out to maim you, you nod.
“I seriously doubt my friends remember I’m over here, so feel free to stay.” You joke at your expense.
He sits across from you, sparing a glance over his shoulder at his team who make it very obvious that they’re staring.
You study his profile, a shaggy haircut that falls across his forehead, all tousled in an effortless way. His jaw line is defined, round brown eyes that flick back to you. When he catches you looking, he grins once more.
It’s never been so…easy, having a ‘get to know you’ conversation. Questions come without second thoughts, you find yourself laughing, actually laughing.
Playing with your straw, you try to calm your facial expressions, your cheeks are starting to hurt from beaming so much.
“So, Dr. Reid, huh?” You ask, making him let out a small huff of embarrassment.
“That’s what the PhD’s say, yeah.” He scratches the back of his neck, suddenly feeling really dorky about his immense amount of education.
It’s not dorky to you. Every guy you’ve talked to tonight dropped out of community college because ‘it didn’t align with their career paths’ of selling protein smoothies or working in some ‘underground’ record store.
But here Spencer is, explaining he’s on the behavioral analysis unit for the FBI and he tells you about all the degrees he has. All you can think about as he talks of universities and the academy is, knowledge is such a sexy look on a guy. Sure, you’ve never really liked the underachieving stoners, but usually you’ve been with guys who seem to say “you like school?” when you talk about working towards your Masters degree.
“Wow.” Is all you can say for a moment, clearly shocked and, well, impressed. “I really wasn’t expecting that.”
“That’s what most people say.” He nods, picking the cherry in his drink out by the stem and offering it to you.
By your thankful eyes batting up at him, he’s tempted on going behind the bar and bringing you all the maraschino cherries they have. He quickly turns the conversation around to focus on you so he can focus on something other than the stained color on your lips.
“What about you? What do you do?” He asks.
Compared to his job, yours seems too normal, too mundane. You almost want to avoid the question, never once have you been unsatisfied with your career but now you can’t help it. What if Spencer doesn’t like you because you don’t work for NASA?
That’s ridiculous, because to Spencer, your job makes his adoration grow.
“Oh, I’m just a teacher.” You say, fiddling with a stem in your mouth.
Spencer gains a soft smile. “You could never just be a teacher, teacher’s are important. Well, unless you’re a sucky teacher.”
His joke earns a bubbly giggle and he decides he’d like to hear that sound forever. It’s moments like this that he’s glad to have an eidetic memory.
“I don’t think I’m a sucky teacher so that’s good, my students seem to like me.” You state, pushing your hair behind your ear and dropping the knotted stem onto a napkin.
Spencer finds himself leaning a little closer, body naturally gravitating to your pull. “What do you teach?” He asks.
“I work for my schools gifted children program, so I basically teach kid geniuses advanced core curriculum because they’ve tested out of their normal classes.” You chuckle, oblivious to the way Spencer’s heart warms.
He remains quiet for a bit too long, just staring at you with an honest look, one that makes you feel like you’re turned inside out and bared for him. The panic rises again, you think you must have said something to ruin it.
“I know it’s nothing special-” You begin to say.
“No.” He interrupts, a sure tone. “I-I think it’s great. Really, that’s not an easy job.”
Deep breath out, you’re put at ease.
“I constantly have imposter syndrome, these kids are twelve and bringing up philosophies and mathematical formulas I have to go home and study because I haven’t even learned them yet. Honestly, sometimes I don’t even think they need me there.” You joke lightly, half meaning it but masking that slight insecurity by finishing off your drink.
“They need you.” Spencer assures, an expression showing he’s never been more sure of something. “Believe me, you’re probably the only person they see in a school day that understands them.”
Brows creased, you shake your head, holding his rather intimidating gaze for such puppy dog eyes.
“What makes you so sure?” You question.
Spencer takes in a breath. “Because I know what it’s like to be twelve years old and telling a grown adult about Fermat’s Last Theorem.”
Sometimes, the world has a funny way of putting two people together. For years, you’ve wandered through life and on a random Friday night, feeling a little flushed from the Summer air, here is Spencer Reid, the man of your dreams.
Your friends left some time ago after you assured them you were fine to be left at the place you were just complaining about being. You don’t mind being left with Spencer, in fact, you’re dreading the time you have to go home because it means this moment is over.
“I really would like to live in New York.” You exclaim, somehow have fallen into the rabbit hole of dreams for the future.
“New York’s really cool!” He agrees. “Did you know that they have a homicide rate of 4.48 percent right now? It’s been declining since the nineties.”
You must make some sort of surprised face because his eyes go wide and he quickly tried to recover his odd statement.
“Sorry, my job isn’t really full of happy statistics. But mostly we just find dead prostitutes in alleys in New York.”
His blushed cheeks make your heart flutter in its beats.
“I’m glad I’m not a prostitute.” You giggle, making him chew his bottom lip for a moment.
“Yeah, I’m glad you’re not either.”
By the time the team gets their coats back on with the intention of heading home, they look across the room to see their quirky doctor friend is partaking in very friendly body language.
“Oh my god, look at him.” Emily laughs. “He’s finally using that big IQ of his.”
Penelope, who comes to hold onto Morgan’s arm, grins rather proudly. “It’s like a butterfly finally coming out of its cocoon. It’s…beautiful, actually.”
Derek laughs down at her. “I think that last long island ice tea was a bad idea. Come on, baby, let’s get you home.”
“Good luck, my fine friend.” She calls in the general direction of you and Spencer, but the two of you don’t notice.
JJ ties her hair up and starts to take a few steps forward.
“Where are you going?” Penelope questions.
“To let him know we’re leaving?”
“No!” The team seems to exclaim, all shouting that she cannot disturb the moment Spencer worked rather hard to get to.
She just holds her hands up in defense, then follows after Emily as they leave the bar.
Spencer of course notices the way Prentiss leaves him with an encouraging thumbs up. It makes his get a little bashful, but he nods a goodbye and watches the door shut once more. His attention is brought back to his hand on the table, well, more to the way your pinky brushes against his. You continue to talk about mutual interests and what your apartment in New York would look like, a slight ramble to you that shows you’re very aware of the slight contact.
With some kind of placebo courage he can’t even blame on alcohol, he lets his fingers crawl between yours like that’s where they belong.
The team would definitely laugh at this teenage display, but to the both of you, it’s the perfect amount of reassurance, soft enough to not be too scary.
The attraction is there, Spencer forces himself to profile it just so his negative thoughts can’t prove him wrong. You’re smiling at every word, your eyes seem to stay dilated and focused on his, and he isn’t sure if you even realize the way your heel brushes his ankle every so often.
His profile, often never wrong, is what helps him reach across the slight space to tuck your hair behind your ear so casually as he tells you about his minuscule music taste.
After a few flirty comments, you force yourself yo look away from him just so you can het your breathing under control. Upon this action, you read the watch on his wrist and a frown sets on your lipstick stained lips.
“I should go home before it’s too late to walk.” You sigh, not wanting this moment to end.
He nods. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”
Those round eyes he’s starting to really adore look up at him and you chew your lip, almost like you’re waiting for him to do something. Say something.
It takes him entirely too long to figure out what to do. Morgan would be ashamed.
“C-Can I walk you home?” He asks in a rush and in eagerness.
You nod like that’s the best idea you’ve ever heard.
That’s how it leads to you leaning against him like it’s something you do often, walking in step as you ramble on and on about what you have to do to get your classroom ready for the new school year. He listens without annoyance like most guys would, then tells you about books he has that he thinks you might enjoy, books he could part with so you could give them to the students whose reading levels are above what the school provides.
He’s so caring and considerate, making sure he walks closest to the street, lets you be off in your own world and makes sure you don’t run into anything as you constantly gaze up at him. All the way to your building and up the stairs to your apartment door, the two of you are as comfortable with each other like two old friends would be.
That’s what makes your head spin. You just met Spencer and already feel like he’s been in your life for hundreds of years.
You pull your keys from your purse, you unlock the door but don’t make a move to open it.
“I’m really, really, happy that I met you.” You whisper to him as he slightly crowds your space in the door way.
“I am too.” He agrees, heart beating a little faster as your hand presses gently to his chest.
Don’t be crazy, you just met her, she doesn’t want a stranger trying to kiss her, tell her good night, call her tomorrow, maybe you can plan for something next weekend-
His thoughts don’t stand a chance when you wrap your fingers around his tie and gently tug him to your lips.
It’s smooth and warm and has your eyes shutting and your lungs exhaling. His gentle hand cradles your face while the other flexes against your hip.
It just feels so…
So right.
With the slight tilt of your head, the goodnight kiss deepens, you’re molded against him.
His lips part, coaxing yours to do the same, and the feeling of your tongue against his has you slightly teetering backwards. You lean against the door for support, hands roaming into his hair.
You’ve been wanting to run your hands through it all night.
He’s desperate in his movements, like he’s a starved man and you’re enjoying every second of it. His thumb runs over your jaw, you’re pushing away any space between you.
When you decide you’re going to pass out from the lack of oxygen, you pull away, sucking your bottom lip to savor the taste. Spencer still holds your face in his large hands and matches your shallow pants.
It’s all so much. You’re hot, brain a little foggy, but still so sure of this situation.
And you soon find yourself saying something you’ve never ever said after just meeting a guy.
“Do you want to come inside?”
Spencer seriously thinks he misheard you.
“Yeah- yes. Yes, I do.” He nods.
A laugh escapes your lips, one he swallows up as he embraces you once more, trying to help you open the door. His arm around your waist makes sure you don’t stumble and fall as the two of you finally get inside.
He looks around the space. “I like your apartment, it’s nice.”
“Thank you.” You mumble against his lips, pulling at your jean jacket and tossing it to the couch.
It’s dark, causing you to back into a side table. The both of you laugh, but neither of you bother to reach for the light switch.
You guid him towards your bedroom, pushing him through the ajar door. The open window leaves the room painted in a low light, the breeze is cool as you clumsily fall onto the mattress with him.
“I never do this.” You state, a huff leaving your lips as he rolls you onto your back.
“I don’t either.” He agrees, mouth wandering down your jaw to your neck.
You fiddling hands make a home in his hair. “Like I really don’t do this. I don’t even go to bars, let alone take home strange men- not that you’re strange. But don’t think I am a casual hookup girl, because I’m not, I just- there’s a connection, right? I’m not alone in this?”
He pulls away, looking down at you with a loopy grin. “You’re rambling, that’s a sign of nervousness.”
“I am nervous!” You exclaim with a breathy laugh. “You’re just…you’re really great.”
His thumb traces your bottom lip. “You’re really great too.” He whispers. “But we don’t have to do anything.”
“No!” You say a little too boldly. “I mean, no, no I want this. Do you want this?”
With a nod, he assures you. “I want this too.”
Maybe you should be more shy and self conscious about this, but when he’s being so kind, all your nervousness leaves. The two of you stumble through the awkward bits with laughter and jokes, and it makes you realize that something so serious doesn’t have to be so uniform.
Really, you’re having more fun than you’ve ever had.
“Spencer?” You gasp, dangerously close to falling off the bed at how the two of you have rolled around.
“Yeah?” He asks, head buried in your neck, trying not to get too ahead of himself as he continues his deep pace between your legs.
“You’re kinda pulling my hair.”
Immediately he moves his hand, apologetic.
Hands dragging up his chest, you try to shimmy away from the mattress ledge. Spencer notices the tragedy that’s about to strike, opting to back off of you completely so you can readjust.
You gasp at the loss of contact. “A little warning next time would be appreciated.”
“Sorry, sorry.” He stammers, gripping you in a feverish way, mouth back to yours.
You don’t exactly know how you ended up on top, but you look at him slightly frightened eyes.
“Is this a no?” He questions, only concerned with making you comfortable.
He’s the complete opposite of selfish, he proved that the second he started you off with his tongue against your core.
“No, not if you like this? I just…I don’t know if I’m good at this.”
He nods in understanding. “Okay, no problem.”
You protest as he goes to move you. “Can I try? Will-will you help me?”
God, he could marry you.
“Yeah, of course sweetheart.” He whispers, kissing you gently.
The butterflies in your stomach are all twitter pated.
Or maybe you’re just extremely turned on.
Spencer is a great teacher, it’s you who jumps the gun at things.
“There you go, angel, slow.” He breathes in your ear, finger tips pressing into your hips as you slowly push down, letting his tip enter you. “Just go really slow, okay?”
You try to do as he says, easing him into you slowly, but by some urge to rush satisfaction, you sink all the way onto him without warning.
“Fuck! That wasn’t slow.” He grits, a hoarse moan escaping from the back of his throat, his grip on you almost bruising.
“S-sorry.” You try to say, but the sheer pressure you feel at this sudden angle has you shuddering and crying out softly. “I’m an overachiever.” You try to joke.
“Holy shit, you want an A+ or something?” He chuckles, trying to calm himself down, running through mathematical formulas in his head so he doesn’t finish just like this.
“Spence, I need- it’s a lot, I need-” You whine out, not having the heart to feel embarrassed for sounding so needy.
“I know, I know. Fuck, do you have any idea how good you feel?” He questions, swallowing hard as he guides your hips forward slightly.
“I can’t really think at all when you’re sitting in my cervix right now.” You claim, quickly overwhelmed by pleasure as you find a rhythm against him.
Sucking on your throat, he mutters something you don’t care to listen to.
“This is- is it supposed to be this good?” You moan, trying not to dig your finger nails into his shoulders.
“I think we just fit perfectly.”
With each movement, you become more comfortable and confident, soon that friendly softness is replaced by lustful roughness. Through it all, Spencer remains caring, even when you tell him he can be a little rough with you.
Never in your sex life have you wanted more and more, even when it finishes.
Even after the two of you can’t find the strength to pull any more orgasms from each other, you lay beside each other, Spencer hasn’t bothered to pull out of you yet, perhaps he’s too spent.
“So.” You clear your throat, tracing his features. “How do you want to play this?”
He hums, dragging his fingers up and down your side. “What do you mean?”
“Guys usually leave after this stuff, right?”
His brows furrow, anxiety comes to ripple through him. “Do you want me to leave?”
Staring at his tired eyes, you shake your head. “No, I want you to stay. Forever. I’m thinking about chaining you to the headboard.”
He chuckles. “I’ll save you the effort, I will gladly stay.”
A sweet smile is returned to him.
At some point, the two of you clean up and fall asleep the second the sheets are pulled over you.
Spencer is convinced it’s all a dream until he wakes up to the sun warm over his skin. He rubs his blurry eyes and rolls over in the bed that is not his, met with your bare back. Slowly, he reaches for you, kissing your shoulder to rouse you.
His phone, still in the pocket of his discarded pants, rings again and again, forcing him to retrieve it in his boxers.
Of course it’s Hotch.
Of course he needs to get to the office. On a Saturday. After the night he just had.
“I should call the authorities, there’s a cute intruder in my room.” Your sleepy voice says from bed. “Oh wait…you are the authorities.”
He likes the way you can make yourself giggle.
“I have bad news.” He says, tracking down his clothes. “My boss just called me in.”
He hates the frown you have.
“That’s a very unfortunate thing.” You nod.
He buttons his pants, then slides his shirt on as he comes to your bedside.
“I should get going so I can go home and change.”
His warm hand presses to your cheek.
You turn to kiss his palm. “Is this goodbye?”
“No. Definitely no.” He assures. “I’ll call when I can, okay? Maybe we can get dinner or something?”
You could sigh heavenly at the way he’s just so dreamy.
“That sounds nice. I’d kiss you but I might have morning breath.” You smile.
He kisses you anyway.
And after leaving the team waiting in the round table room, he appears refreshed and in a very good mood.
He takes his seat, all eyes on him.
“Sorry I’m late, good morning.” He clears his throat.
“Good morning indeed.” Morgan chuckles, sliding him a cup of coffee.
“You okay, Reid?” Rossi asks, eyeing the agent.
“I’m great.” He smiles.
“Is that a hickey?” JJ exclaims, reveling in the way he quickly grabs for his neck, only to realize she’s joking.
“Real mature.” He mutters, knowing the entire day is going to be jokes made at his expense.
He doesn’t mind though, not when he knows his reward for all of this is you.
263 notes · View notes
thewritingrowlet · 2 days ago
Text
The Office Romance pt. 2, ft. tripleS Seoyeon
Tumblr media
tags: creampie, anal, blowjob, food play, rough, daddy kink
length: almost 10k
author's note: I remember you guys liked the first Seoyeon anal fic, so here's another one—enjoy!
-
“Ngh, ngh—oh, fuck!”
Only these sounds escape Seoyeon’s lips as she tries to cope with your cock that’s invading her ass. You’re no better, though; despite being able to speak coherently, the words that come out of your lips are dirty to say the least.
“Oh, fuck, how are you always so tight, baby? You’re so fucking amazing.”
Seoyeon lifts her face off the pillow momentarily. “P-please cum; I-I can’t take much of this anymore,” she begs. It was her idea to do anal this midnight—after your previous load went into her pussy—and you’re simply playing along, but now that she’s visibly uncomfortable, you don’t feel like continuing.
You slowly pull your cock out of her rear and flip her onto her back. “Oh, I’m so sorry, baby,” you wipe some tears off her plump cheeks. “It was so painful, wasn’t it?” Seoyeon nods. “I-I thought I would’ve been able to handle it, but apparently not.” You pull her into an embrace after lying down next to her. “I’m very happy that you’re putting my pleasure as one of your top priorities, but at the same time, I wish you wouldn’t force yourself like this next time.” Seoyeon pecks you on the lips. “It’s because you matter the most to me, oppa.” “I know, baby, and you matter the most to me,” you say, “but let’s not do it like this again.”
The two of you didn’t shower after the first sex session a few hours ago, and you think that now is a good time for it. “Let’s get some shower, baby, and then we can get some proper rest.” “I’ll need your help for that, oppa.” You take your turn to peck her on the lips. “Gladly, baby.”
-
“Hi! Hello!” Dayeon, who happens to be at the lobby, greets you and Seoyeon. She isn’t in the best mood today—you have a few clues as to why—so you’re reluctant to greet Dayeon back with the same energy, because the last thing you want is for Seoyeon to think that you’re too excited to see Dayeon. Seoyeon, however, suddenly picks up her steps, thus leaving you and Dayeon behind.
“Oh.” Dayeon’s smile disappears as she watches her leave. “Is she okay?” You tell her that Seoyeon didn’t have much sleep last night, hence the crankiness, and apologize on her behalf. “I guess I’m not coming to your place tomorrow, then.” You shake your head. “I mean, the idea wasn’t even mine.”
After parting ways with Dayeon, you rush towards the elevator to chase your girlfriend. “There you are.” You approach the grumpy beauty who’s sitting at her desk. “Are you okay, baby? Can I help with anything?” Seoyeon starts crying, taking you by surprise. “I-I’m so tired, oppa, a-and here you are, flirting with another girl.” You want to hug her and assure her that you weren’t even close to flirting with Dayeon, but there’s a CCTV in this area. “Follow me, please,” you tilt your head towards the door to your office, and thankfully, Seoyeon does follow you.
After closing the door behind her, you pull her into a tight hug. “Baby, I wasn’t flirting with her; I was just saying hi because she said hi first.” “I know,” Seoyeon sighs, “I’m sorry, oppa; I don’t know why I’m so sensitive today.” You gently run a hand on the back of her head. “You’re just drained, baby—maybe we shouldn’t push too much to have sex from now on.” Your girlfriend presses her face on your chest. “I just wanted to please you, oppa,” she reasons. “I know, baby, and I thank you for that, but if having sex denies you some much-needed rest, then what’s the point?” Seoyeon pulls away from the hug, wiping her eyes as she does. “I’m going to cry until my eyes are dry if we keep hugging—I’ll start working now.” Before you let her go, you come in for a quick kiss. “I love you, baby.” “I love you too, oppa.”
You go to sit at your desk and see that your computer is already on, and there’s a note stuck on the bezel of your monitor that says, “lunch w/ me @ Tonkatsu Theater.” “Oh, you want to get lunch with me, baby? That’s very cute.”
-
You arrive at Tonkatsu Theater with Seoyeon at around 1 p.m. “Oh, it’s not that packed,” you comment. “Wouldn’t matter if it did; I’ve booked a table for us.” “You have? When?” “This morning, on our way to the office.”
“A reservation for Yoon Seoyeon, please,” Seoyeon says to one of the staffs, who then asks the two of you to follow him towards the reserved private dining area. “Two tonkatsu, one onion rings, one iced tea with no sugar, and one orange juice, please.” Look, she even orders for you. You wait until the staff leaves before reaching for her hands. “This should’ve been my job, but thank you, baby.” A smile gradually forms on her face, a perfect fit for the rest of her gorgeous features. “Of course, oppa,” she replies, her cheeks pink. “You’re paying for the food, though.” You let out a chuckle that’s louder than intended. “Of course, baby.”
The food arrives at your table not long after you’re seated, which is great; you skipped breakfast this morning because you were running late, so you’re starving right now. Seoyeon slams her hands on the table, a fork in one hand and a knife in the other. “Doesn’t this look amazing?" You nod enthusiastically. “It sure does,” you pick up your utensils, “shall we?”
Seoyeon sinks in her seat after the first bite. “Oh, my—oh my God,” she speaks despite the full mouth, “one bite is all it takes to fall in love.” You see an opportunity to make a joke. “The same way it took you one kiss to fall in love with me?” Seoyeon covers her mouth as she tries her hardest to not laugh and spit everywhere. When the amusement dies down, she kicks you under the table. “Oh my God, stoooop—just eat, oppa, why are you teasing me?” You pinch her round cheeks lightly. “Oh, please, don’t tell me you weren’t amused.”
-
You summon Dayeon to your office with around an hour left in the workday to talk about some debut-related stuff with her and Seoyeon.
“Hi, hi,” Dayeon enters your office with a smile, and you replicate that smile for her. “So, what’s so important?” “I’ll get straight to the point,” you say, “I’m thinking about debuting all seven of them.” She looks at you with this neutral face that you’re not sure what the meaning is. “Is that so?” You nod. “I’m curious about what you think since you’ve spent some time getting familiar with them.” Dayeon sighs. “Soobin-ie needs some more training.” “I mean, we still have time until January at most,” you reason. “Okay,” she says, “then in that case, I want to be more hands-on with Soobin-ie—don’t worry, I’ll make sure I don’t offend the instructors.“ “Yeah, go ahead,” you show her the green light.
“Is that it, or?” You shake your head. “One more thing, actually,” you change the subject, “you were an idol at some point in your life; how was mental health support when you were active?” You can see joy gradually disappearing from her features. “It didn’t exist,” she sighs, “I had to rely on the older members for that, and it goes without saying that they had their own things to worry about.”
You grab some origami papers of different colors that you’ve cut into credit card-sized rectangles. “Seoyeon-ie suggested that we give out these cards to the girls, and whenever they want to talk, they can just show me or anyone at the company one of these things.” “What are the different colors for?” “I know that green is for when they want to talk about work stuff, but I don’t know about red and orange yet.” Dayeon looks at Seoyeon momentarily before turning her focus back to you. “Orange should be for when they want to talk to a psychologist or the sort, and red is for girls’ stuff.” You ask her to elaborate, so she does. “I don’t know, I was thinking that maybe Seoyeon-ie could be their older sister at work, but I think she already has so much in her hands.”
You ask Seoyeon what she thinks about Dayeon’s idea. “I mean, if you can take off some work load off me, then I’ll gladly take on a closer role with the girls,” Seoyeon says. You rub your chin as you think about it; the things you usually assign to Seoyeon are those that you really need help with, so it’s not like you’re slacking off and delegating things to others just because you can, but at the same time, if she can become that person the girls can rely on, it’d be so helpful for them. “We’ll think about it, okay?”
You’re promptly reminded that debuting all seven trainees would mean that you’ll need to find a new living space to properly accommodate them, which you don’t have references for just yet—three of the seven trainees live with their parents, so at the moment, you only need to house the remaining four.
“Dayeon-ah, find some apartments that can fit seven of them comfortably, please?” “Yeah, sure,” she says, “anything else?” “No, that’s it.” Dayeon nods and writes down her new assignment on her phone. “I’ll get to it; give me a day or two,” she says. “Alright, you may go, then.”
You expect her to just turn around and walk out, but no, she bends over your desk and gives you a peck on the lips. “Uhh,” you’re getting nervous, “thanks, I guess?” “Don’t be mad, Seoyeon-ah,” she says, “see you two around!”
You’re still silent even after Dayeon has left your office. You’re snapped out of your trance when you hear a chuckle from Seoyeon. “What are you so stunned for, oppa—you’ve never gotten a kiss from a girl before?” “I didn’t expect her to be so brazen considering that you’re here.” Your girlfriend places her palms on your cheeks. “Something tells me that I don’t have to worry about her,” she says, rubbing your cheeks softly as she does, “I know who I am in your eyes.” “I love you,” you say, earning a cute smile from Seoyeon. “I love you too, oppa.”
You keep an eye on her as she walks away from your desk and out of your office. This morning, she cried because she thought that you were flirting with Dayeon (even though it was a simple, friendly greeting), and about a workday later, Seoyeon said with confidence that she knew her worth in your eyes.
You shake your head to clear your mind. The workday is done and it’s time to go home with Seoyeon.
At least that was the plan, because when you leave your office, you see Jihyun sitting on the other side of Seoyeon’s desk, seemingly sad about something.
“Are you okay, Miss Seo?” Jihyun bites her lip nervously before answering you. “Erm, i-it’s about Sunbin-ie,” she says vaguely. “What about her?” “S-she sprained her ankle just now, a-and I thought I should tell you and Miss Yoon.” You sigh and rub your forehead at the same time. What’s with Sunbin and hurting her legs, man—first it was her calf, and now it’s her ankle. “Where is she now, Jihyun-ah?” “S-still in the practice room, sir, i-if you’d follow me.”
As you and Seoyeon are following Jihyun to the practice room, you nudge her. “Try holding her hand, babe,” you whisper. Seoyeon does as you ask and takes Jihyun’s hand in hers, and Jihyun is visibly surprised. “You’re alright, Jihyun-ah,” she says, “from now on, I’ll be your older sister that you can rely on." Jihyun isn’t quite sure of what to make of the words, but based on her nods, you guess that she likes the idea.
“Girls, the bosses are here,” Jihyun announces your and Seoyeon’s presence as the three of you enter the practice room. You see the girls standing around a seated person who you assume is Sunbin, circling her and thus blocking your view. One of them suddenly turns around, and— “Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you,” Sunwoo starts singing the song while clapping her hands to the rhythm, followed by the other trainees, and you promptly look at your watch: it is the 6th of November, which is your birthday—if it wasn’t for these girls, you wouldn’t have remembered.
It is when the girls peel away from the circle that you see the white birthday cake (that has some text written in red-colored buttercream on it) in Sunbin’s hands. “Oh my God,” you palm your forehead, “so this was a ploy?” Seoyeon wraps an arm around yours and drags you closer to the cake. “Happy birthday, boss!” You’re highly amused by the surprise. “Thank you, everyone,” you say.
You and Seoyeon sit on the floor with the girls, the cake sitting in the middle like a bonfire. “He doesn’t celebrate his birthday, guys,” Seoyeon says, “it’s only my birthday he celebrates.” Soobin asks why, so you simply say that your family doesn’t really celebrate anyone’s birthday regularly. “Wait,” Soobin says, “did you say he only celebrates your birthday, Miss Yoon?” Seoyeon’s cheeks turn bright red. “Y-yes,” she says, covering her cheeks with her palms, “h-he’s my boyfriend, if you didn’t know already.” Based on the girls’ expressions, you guess that they didn’t know about it.
It is time to address something important: how did they know that it’s your birthday? “Well, I asked Miss Kim—Kim Dayeon, that is,” Sihyeon says, “and now we know everyone’s birthdays.” You shake your head. “So let me ask again, Sunbin-ie didn’t hurt her ankles?” Everyone bursts out laughing. “No, no, no—we just had Jihyun-ie act stressed and sad so that she could get your attention. “Well, dang,” you say, “maybe we should consider giving Jihyun-ie some acting lessons.”
Sunbin pulls out a plastic knife from her back pocket and cuts the cake into 8 parts. “You and Miss Yoon should share, boss,” Sunbin says. Daeun passes a slice over to you along with a spoon. “Choo, choo, baby.” You guide a spoonful of cake towards Seoyeon’s mouth, and with red cheeks, she takes it in her mouth. “Oooooh,” the trainees collectively react, as if sharing the same brain cells. Seoyeon shakes her head as she chews her mouthful. “Alright, alright,” you try saving your girlfriend from further embarrassment, “let’s eat, girls!”
It doesn’t take long for people to finish their slices—Hyeonju even finishes hers in 3 mouthfuls. “Miss Park and Miss Jeon, get some water for us, please.” Soobin and Sunbin do as you ask and grab some bottles of water. “Alright, so,” you start a new topic, “I think this is a good opportunity to talk.” The trainees look at you both in confusion and nervousness. “Oh, don’t worry; it’s nothing to be concerned about—if anything, I think you should be excited about this.”
You briefly explain to the trainees how you’re planning to implement a system where each of them can request an audience with anyone in the company for anything they want to address, from work-related things to personal ones. “A part of the plan is to have Miss Yoon over here to take on a role as your, erm, older sister, I guess.” The seven trainees look at you and Seoyeon in silence, probably processing what this could mean for them. “Look,” you pile on, “I want to provide clear communication channels between us because each of you matters a lot for us.” “And how do you plan on doing that, sir?” “I have some cards of different colors upstairs, and the idea is that different colors represent different purposes; show it to anyone and they’ll take care of you accordingly, from the trainers to the psychiatrist.”
“I like that,” Sunwoo is the first to break the silence, “I think I like that idea, boss.” A smile appears on your face, pushing tenseness away in the process. “Thank you, Miss Jung—anyone else?” Sihyeon asks if seeing the psychiatrist would require them to pay. “No, the company will pay for it, because we’ll be hiring professionals for this.” “Wait, hold on,” Sunwoo speaks again, “please promise us that this system is long-term.” You nod. “As long as me and Miss Yoon are here, it won’t go away.”
“Guys,” Seoyeon takes the baton from you, “please let us know what you think.” Park Soobin, who happens to sit right next to her, hugs her from the side. “Unnie,” she says softly, “I love you, my unnie.” Seoyeon replicates the gesture, beaming as she does. “I love you too, Soobin-ah; talk to me often, ‘kay? I promise I’ll make time for you.”
You step away from the circle to give space, and the girls immediately hug Seoyeon from all directions as a group. You find yourself beaming and your heart is full of warmth because of the sight in front of you. “I’m glad everyone is on board with the idea.” “Can we call you oppa, then?” Jihyun’s question makes you laugh. “I mean, if you’re comfortable with it, then sure.”
The trainees take their previous sitting positions in the circle, thus allowing you to rejoin. “Oh, I just remembered,” you say, “we’re also planning on giving you guys some vacation, since your instructors are going to take some PTO next week.” Some cheer while some others don’t really show excitement. You ask those who aren’t as ecstatic if they’re okay, and they say different reasons as to why they’re not excited: Daeun doesn’t feel like seeing her parents (she doesn’t have the best relationship with them), Hyeonju wants to see her parents but doesn’t have money for transport (that can be fixed easily), and finally, Soobin says she wants to practice more.
“Work will always be there, Soobin-ah,” you say, “don’t you want to take a breather for a moment?” Soobin’s teary gaze strays away from yours. “I think I’m still lacking, sir, and since only 5 of us will debut, I-I need to pick it up.” You notice that Seoyeon is deeply looking at you, and you wonder if this is a good opportunity to reveal the plan of debuting all of them.
A part of you wants to provide comfort for Soobin, but at the same time, it’s too risky to open the card now. “Alright, okay,” you say, “Miss Kim said earlier that she wanted to be more hands-on with your training, so I’m going to entrust you to her.” “Y-yes, sir; I-I will work hard.”
The general mood is declining, and it makes you think that it’s time to wrap it up. “Alright, let’s go home, everyone.” Before leaving with you, Seoyeon makes the time to hug each trainee, offering comfort and kindness to them. “We will see you soon—good evening, everyone.”
As soon as you get in the car with Seoyeon, she confronts you. “Why didn’t you say that all of them will debut?” “I wanted to, but I felt like it was too risky.” She clicks her tongue in disappointment. “They needed comfort, oppa, but you failed to provide them with it—this is their future more than it is ours.” You sigh. “I’m sorry,” you say, “should we tell them now, then?” “No, it’d be embarrassing to go back in there, but you need to tell them soon.”
-
“I’m going to shower first; feel free to do whatever.” Seoyeon beelines towards the bathroom without bothering to shed some clothes off first. “Sure, baby.”
You take a seat on the edge of the bed, feeling very uneasy about the attitude that your girlfriend is showing you. At the same time, however, this wouldn’t have happened had you told the trainees that all of them will debut in January. “It’s fine—this is fine,” you say to yourself, “Soobin-ie still needs to practice more anyway.”
While you wait for Seoyeon to finish showering, you get rid of your work clothes in favor of some more comfortable T-shirt and shorts. “Oppa!” You faintly hear her calling to you from the bathroom. “One second!” You jog a little towards her and see that the bathroom door is slightly open. “Yes, baby?” “Can you grab me some pajamas?” “Sure.”
After grabbing a set of pink pajamas from the wardrobe, you make your way back to the bathroom. “Baby, I’m putting it on the mat, okay?” You see the door swinging open, revealing your drenched, naked girlfriend. “Come here,” she says. Your eyes run up and down her body as you think about the situation—oh, wait, she just shaved. “Erm, sure.”
You stay silent as Seoyeon undresses you, cooperating here and there where you see fit. “Oppa,” she snatches your attention, “listen to me, please.” Your gaze moves to meet hers. “First of all, happy birthday,” she begins, “I didn’t forget it, just so we’re clear, but I didn’t have time to get you a present, so I’m sorry.” You shake your head. “Having you by my side is far better than any present.” Seoyeon looks away momentarily to hide her red cheeks.
“Anyway,” she clears her throat before continuing, “I want to apologize, oppa; I, erm, wasn’t so kind with you this past hour.” You shake your head again. “I understand where you were coming from—actually, I was about to ask you if I should come to their practice tomorrow and announce the plan.” “We can if you want to,” she says, and you simply nod in response.
“Hey, so, erm” you change the subject, “why am I here?” Seoyeon chuckles. “Well, I wanted to suck you—y’know, to celebrate your birthday and all that.” Your lips are shut, but your cock does the talking, getting hard at the prospect of getting a blowjob. “Take a seat somewhere, oppa.” You look for spots in the bathroom and decide that you’ll take the toilet. “I’m ready when you are, baby.”
The way Seoyeon’s hips sway as she’s making her way towards you combined with the sight of her shaved crotch makes you drool. The sight is replaced when she kneels between your legs, her eyes locked on your erect shaft. “Happy birthday, oppa.” “Thank you, love,” you place a hand on the side of her face, “thank you for being here.” Seoyeon, not in the correct position to peck you on the lips, gives you a peck on the tip of your cock.
You gasp when the first few centimeters of your cock enters her mouth. Seoyeon wastes little time and immediately begins bobbing her head along your shaft. “Oh my God, baby,” you say breathily, “you’re always so damn good at this.” Enthused by your praise, Seoyeon plants her hands on your thighs so that she can be stable while sucking your cock fast and deep. Her wet hair sticks on different parts of her face, and you take it as your job to tidy it up as much as you can.
“Oh, God, I won’t last if you do it like that,” you comment when you feel her tongue running on the underside of your shaft. Your cock leaves her lips with a pop. “No, no, no, you can only bust here,” she points at her crotch, “I didn’t shave just for you to cum in my mouth.” You wipe some drool off the edges of your lips. “Okay,” you say, “are we doing it here, then?” Seoyeon looks around the bathroom. “Yeah, let’s do it here; it’s easier for us to clean up after.” “I’m ready when you are, baby.”
You expect Seoyeon to impale herself on your cock, but she doesn’t—she just stands in front of you with her hands on your shoulders. “Are you okay, baby?” She sighs. “I, erm, don’t feel the usual emotions.” You show her a gentle smile. “Is that so, my love?” The endearment makes her blush a little. “If you keep calling me that, though...”
You lift your butt off the toilet, thus towering over her like you usually do. “Love, listen, please,” you rub her cheek gently, “I love you so, so, so much, and I’m thankful for you.” Seoyeon’s big eyes are locked on yours, and her lips are shut tight, waiting for you to pile on. “That said, my love, I apologize for all my shortcomings; I promise I will work on becoming the best person you want to spend your life with.”
“You know I hate empty promises, right, oppa?” You nod. “I do, and I hate them as much as you do, love.” “So, how are you going to show your commitment to fulfill that promise, oppa?” Her question stumps you; how are you going to show your commitment is indeed a very good and valid question. “I-I don’t know.” This cluelessness makes you want to cry—you really want to give her a good answer, but no matter how hard you’re cranking the gears in your head, you just can’t come up with one. “I-I’m sorry, I-I don’t know what to say.”
Seoyeon takes her turn to rub your cheek with her gentle hand. “You don’t have to answer with your words, oppa—actions speak louder anyway.” The embarrassment in your head leads to you dropping your chin, but Seoyeon lifts it up again, thus making you look at her again. “Hey, now,” her voice is very soft, “get yourself together, oppa; I still love you, y’know.” You take a deep breath. “Sorry, love—you brought me here to have sex, and what you’re getting is a mess.” “Let me fix that mess, oppa.”
Seoyeon gets on her tippy toes and places her lips on yours, and with every second passing, you can feel that things are getting clearer for you to see; Seoyeon is here to stay and watch you grow as a man in this relationship with her unwavering patience and warm love. “I love you, oppa,” her soft voice warms your heart, “and trust me when I say that it’s not an empty sentence.” You smile. “I love you more, love—I haven’t the slightest of doubt in my head about us.” Seoyeon smiles sweetly. “I think we’re ready to have sex now.” “We are,” you agree with her, “but I don’t want to do it here.”
You step away from your girlfriend to grab a towel and use it to wipe water off her body. “Sex in the bathroom doesn’t feel appropriate for us right now, don’t you think?” Seoyeon hums in agreement. Once she’s dry enough to not wet the bed, you lift her by her thighs and carry her to the bedroom, exchanging pecks on the way there.
“I take it we’ll be doing vanilla?” “I mean, we have some chocolate in the fridge if you want to spice it up.” Seoyeon laughs. “No, no, no—we didn’t build up all those emotions just to be, uh, naughty.” You take a seat on the edge of the bed with her still on your lap. “Maybe next time, then?” She sticks her tongue out slightly, seemingly full of ideas for “next time.” “We can go crazy next time, oppa, but let’s worry about that next time.”
You fall backwards onto the bed, thus making Seoyeon take the top position. “Oh, I get to be on top?” You chuckle. “As if you’ve never been on top before.” You gasp when you feel her grabbing your cock and stroking it. “You know I like being on the bottom more, but I don’t mind riding this big dick of yours every now and then.”
You’re about to say something but got cut off when Seoyeon lets you in her tight and wet pussy. “Oh, yes, daddy,” she lets out a long moan at the first contact. “Vanilla, baby, remember?” She laughs a little. “Ah, of course—sorry, force of habit.”
She lies on your body, putting those soft tits of hers right on your chest. “Will you marry me one day, baby?” She gives you a peck on the lips. “I will marry you in this life, the next, and the one after.” “You think we’ll meet again in the next life?” She gives you another peck. “We belong to each other, oppa, and we’ll always find our way back, no matter the distance.”
You think that you’ve had enough conversation, so you push yourself upwards into her warm pussy to signal that you’re ready (if not eager) to begin, thus earning a soft moan from her. “You’re perfect for me, oppa, and I’m perfect for you—that Kim Dayeon girl can’t compete with me.” You pinch her cheek lightly. “Let’s not mention another name when we’re in bed like this, baby.” “S-sure.”
You let out a big exhale when Seoyeon does a full up-and-down move along your cock, and you feel like you’re on cloud nine. “Y-you’re doing that thing again, oppa,” she quips, “y-your eyes are rolling to the back of your head.” You let your eyelids close as they wish. “You’re amazing, that’s why.” You get a peck on the cheek from her. “I’m only like this for you, oppa; you make me want to give you the best all the time.” You don’t know how she’s able to speak these many words with your cock lodged deep in her pussy. “Uh-huh.”
Seoyeon wraps her arms tightly around your nape and begins moving her hips along your cock, moaning so damn freely as she does. “Oh, God, if only I could say how much I love you, oppa.” You shake your head. “Actions speak louder, remember?” “Y-yes, I remember, b-but still.”
You collect yourself and lift your body off the bed, and Seoyeon, as if able to read your mind, kisses you without being asked to. “I love you, baby—I love you so much, and I’ll make you mine forever one day.” “Let’s not worry about the future right now, oppa,” her whispered words hit you hard, “let’s think about the here and now.” You chuckle a little. “Sure, baby.”
You move closer towards the center of the bed and take the top position this time. “I want to mark you, baby.” Seoyeon tilts her head to expose your target. “Have at it, oppa.” Your lips promptly latch on the side of her neck, and once she starts moaning because of it, you start moving your hips back and forth to maximize stimulation. “Oh, yes, that’s it, oppa,” she expresses her approval of your actions, “keep going just like that, oppa.”
This relaxed pace works well for you; you don’t have to worry about busting early because of her tight grip and instead are able to really enjoy the sensations. That said, Seoyeon, as per usual, likely needs something more—
“Oppa, I-I’m getting close.”
Well, isn’t that great to hear; you were just about to ask her if she wanted something more to send her across the finish line, but she just announces that she’s about to cross that line.
“We’ll cum together, baby, ‘kay?” Seoyeon nods in response as her eyes are shut tight, unlike her lips where moans are escaping from, and the sight makes you smile. “You’re such a sweet girl, aren’t you, baby?” “A s-sweet girl like me d-deserves a good guy.” You give her some fleeting kisses. “Am I not a good guy, baby?” Her lips form a small but precious smile. “Y-you’re the best, oppa.”
Your heart starts racing as orgasm makes its way closer to you. “B-baby,” your voice is heavy and breathy, “I-I’m about to—” “Yes, yes, give it all to me, oppa.” You tighten the embrace and pick up the pace of your hips a bit, chasing your orgasm with utmost eagerness. “Yes, just like that, oppa—oh, fuck, yes.” Seoyeon’s approval serves as fuel for your nearly exhausted body to keep pushing during this final short stretch.
With a deep grunt, you release a big, warm load into your girlfriend, thus earning a long moan from her. “I—oh, God,” you’re breathless, “I-I love you so much, baby.” Seoyeon’s body begins to tremble in your arms, a sign that confirms your success at the task. “H-hold me! Hold me, oppa!” You make sure your arms stay strong to hold her close, fighting off as much of the exhaustion as you can. “You’re fine, baby; I’m here for you—I’m always here for you, baby.”
It is only when Seoyeon calms down that you let go of the hug and move to lie next to her. “G-get me a pill, oppa.” You gather your strength and roll over to reach the bedside table to get the pill. You hand it over to your girlfriend along with a bottle that’s barely a quarter full. “O-one day, we won’t bother with this thing,” she says, “I-I swear to God, I’ll give you a child, oppa.” You pet her head softly. “One day, sweetie, okay?”
-
You and Seoyeon arrive at your company’s building in a fine and chill Saturday morning.
The two of you head straight to the practice room where you assume the trainees are, and true enough, everyone but Jihyun is present. “Where is Jihyun-ie?” “She went out to run earlier, but she should be here soon.” It’s an odd time to start getting nervous, and you try your hardest to shake it off. “Yeah, okay,” you take a seat on a nearby chair, “we’ll wait for her a bit.”
The 19-year-old trio of Hyeonju, Daeun, and Soobin are lying on the floor, train hugging from one end to the other. “Yah, Shin Daeun, stop moving, will you?” “Then hug me more tightly, dummy.” Hyeonju and Daeun have been close since middle school, which explains their best friend-like dynamics. “I don’t know how Jinhwan-ie can cuddle you through the night.”
Daeun glances at you nervously. “D-don’t say that out loud, Hyeonju-yah—the boss is right there.” You don’t recall including a “no dating” term in anyone’s contract. “Dating is completely fine, girls,” you interject. Daeun reaches behind and slaps Hyeonju on the thigh. “I hate you sometimes, Kim Hyeonju.”
Jihyun enters the room after a short while, panting heavily as she does. “Ah, hi,” she waves at you and Seoyeon, “good morning.” “Good morning to you too, sweetie,” Seoyeon replies, “how far did you run?” Jihyun looks at her smartwatch. “Uh, about 3 kilometers.” “Pace?” “Just around 7 minutes per kilometer.” Seoyeon claps her hands in praise. “Great job, Jihyun-ah.” “I would love to hug you, unnie, but I’m so sweaty.” Seoyeon takes off her cardigan and moves to hug Jihyun. “It’s fine, Jihyun-ah.” “You’re the best, unnie.”
“Alright, now that everyone is here,” you stand up from your chair, “I would like to announce some things, so gather around, please.” The trainees take their spots near you, and you feel as if you were a kindergarten teacher right now. “Let’s start with the big one,” you take a deep breath first, “all seven of you are debuting.” Your announcement is met with confused blinks. “Can someone say something, please?” “All of us are debuting, oppa?” Sunbin finally breaks the silence, and you nod in response, letting out a deep exhale in the process. “You heard me right.”
The trainees look at each other, seemingly excited at the prospect of debuting together. Jihyun suddenly stands up in front of the crowd. “That means no one is getting dropped, right?” She looks at you momentarily and looks at her fellow trainees. “C’mon, girls,” she tries firing up her colleagues, “the boss just confirmed that all of us are debuting, so let’s give this our all—we don’t want to disappoint oppa and unnie, do we?”
Sihyeon gets on her feet and walks towards you. “Oppa,” she says softly, “you’re not riling us up for nothing, are you?” You shake your head adamantly to show seriousness. “What would I gain from lying to you, Sihyeon-ah?” You’re taken aback when she suddenly hugs you. “I-I will work hard, oppa—you won’t regret this, I swear!” You pet her back gently. “I know, Miss Kang,” you say, “give this last part of training period your all, okay, and I promise we’ll do our part in return.”
Sihyeon lets go of the hug and changes her target to Seoyeon and in her arms Sihyeon’s wall crumbles, showing everyone present the vulnerability of her gentle heart. “I won’t let you down, unnie—I swear on everything I won’t let you down.” Seoyeon closes her eyes as she tries her hardest to stay solid for Sihyeon. “I know, I know,” she pets her back gently the same way you did, “and I’m certain you will make it to the big stage.”
You fish out a small handkerchief from your back pocket and hand it to Seoyeon, who then uses it to wipe Sihyeon’s tears. “Hey, hey, listen to me,” Seoyeon says, “we’ll be with you every step of the way, Sihyeon-ah, and whenever you’re worried about something, remember that you’re never alone.” Unable to answer, the crying girl resorts to nodding, and Seoyeon gives her one last pet on the back before letting go.
“Girls,” Seoyeon takes command despite her glassy eyes, “we believe in you, the same way you believed in us when we first took you in as trainees, so please, let’s work hard together and make this dream come true—am I understood?” “Yes, unnie!”
-
It is when you and Seoyeon reach the privacy of your office that she starts breaking down, no longer able to keep herself together. “I love them, oppa,” she begins, “I-I love them like an older sister.” You pull her into a hug and place a hand on the back of her head. “I know, sweetie, and I’m so glad that they have someone like you by their side.” Her wails become louder as her hands hang on to your hoodie tightly to keep you as close as possible. “I-I want a raise, oppa.” You burst out laughing. “Of course, sweetie; I’ll give you a raise soon, okay?”
You stay with Seoyeon until her benevolent heart calms down and her beautiful eyes stop letting out tears. “You’re such a kind person, aren’t you, love?” She lets out a whimper into your chest. “People love you for your kindness, love—you know that, right?” “Yes,” her voice is muffled by your body. You peck her on the top of her head once. “I will never let you go, love; my world would lose its light if you were to leave me.” “I-I won’t—" A sniffle interrupts her. “I won’t leave you forever, oppa.”
You walk backwards and drag her along towards your seat. “Let’s have a seat for a moment, ‘kay?” Your girlfriend nods into your chest, still not willing to look at you in the eyes. “You’re safe here, love; you’re safe with me.”
Seoyeon suddenly lifts her chin and meets your gaze with eyes that are red from the wave of tears. “I love you, oppa.” “Oh, baby,” you chuckle a little, “I love you so, so, so much, too.” “How much?” “I know you don’t like it when I say that I’d die for you, so instead, I’ll say that I love you so much that I want to be healthy all the time so that I can always be with you.” She beams in satisfaction. “Great answer, oppa.”
The bell to your office rings, and you expect Seoyeon to jump off your lap, but no, she still stays seated on you. “You can answer it, oppa.”
You press a button on your desk to unlock the door, and it swings open soon after, thus revealing Dayeon who is dressed in a dance practice attire. “Oh, am I interrupting?” You shake your head. “Can I help you?” “The girls told me about your plan to debut all of them.” “Are you here to share your opinion, then?” “Yes, kind of,” she says, “I think it was wise to tell them now; I can feel the hopefulness in the air.” “My sweet Seoyeon-ie here deserves the credit; it was her idea to announce the plan to the trainees.” Dayeon nods before closing the door and disappearing behind it.
“Oppa,” Seoyeon taps your nape to get your attention, “can we go home now? Let’s leave the trainees with Dayeon-ie.” “Don’t you want to get breakfast before we head home?” She nods against your left cheek. “I want some bubble waffles, oppa.”
-
While you wait for the bubble waffles to be made, Seoyeon is at the nearby convenience store to get some stuff.
“Would you like to add anything to the other waffle?” “Can I have some peanut butter on the side, please?” The staff nods and fills two small cups with peanut butter, as you’ve requested.
As timing would have it, Seoyeon is walking out of the convenience store right as you’re making your way towards it. “Bag secured, baby,” you show her the plastic bag, “we can go home now.” “Of course you got peanut butter,” she comments. “You know me.”
Seoyeon wraps an arm around yours as the two of you walk towards your car. “Do you want to eat in the car, or?” “No, let’s eat at home.”
-
You sit on the sofa with Seoyeon as soon as you enter your apartment. “Here’s yours, baby,” you hand over the cookie-and-cream waffle. “Oppa, don’t eat all your peanut butter; I want some too later.” You guess that she wants to balance the sweetness of her waffle with some peanut butter, so you make sure you don’t use all of it for yourself.
Your girlfriend only eats about half of her waffle before putting it down on the table. “Bedroom,” she says suddenly, “right meow.” “O…kay?” She urges you to go first and says that she’ll join you after drinking some water. “I’ll be waiting for you, baby.”
You promptly begin scratching your head as soon as you climb onto the bed, confused as to why Seoyeon suddenly wants to go the bedroom so early in the day. “She probably wants to cuddle,” you guess.
“Oh, hi, mister,” she walks into the bedroom with urgency, “you know what I want, don’t you?” “Erm, cuddle?” “Cuddle, he says—God, he’s so clueless sometimes,” she thinks, finding your cluelessness both funny and (mildly) annoying. “Yeah, I do want a cuddle.”
You lie flat in the center of the bed and spread your limbs apart, inviting Seoyeon to take her rightful spot, and once she lies on top of your body, you use your limbs to secure her in place. “Like this, my love?” She wiggles a bit to get you to loosen up a little. “It’s perfect now.”
“Hey, so, uh, why are we here?” Seoyeon grunts. “What, you don’t like cuddling anymore?” “C’mon, baby; I didn’t say that, did I? I’m just curious, y’know.” You’re confused when she begins grinding her crotch against yours. “It was supposed to be a segue to sex, but now that you’re asking, we might as well start now.” “Baby, it’s not even 10 yet.” Seoyeon breaks free from your limbs and moves to sit on your stomach. “Surely you’re not denying me sexual pleasures, are you?” You sigh deeply. “No, I’m not; I would never.”
Seoyeon rewards your correct answer with a steamy kiss that helps you get hard. Unfortunately, though, it’s getting a bit painful since these boxers and joggers aren’t the stretchiest. “Babe,” you call to her, “take off my pants, please.” “Of course, daddy.”
She grabs the waistband of your joggers and hooks her fingers to the inside so that she can pull down your boxers at the same time. “My, my, you’re excited to see me, aren’t you?” You nod as she begins stroking your cock. “You know I’m always excited for you.”
To your absolute surprise, Seoyeon pulls out the cup of peanut butter from her shorts pocket. “Remember this, daddy?” You keep your eyes on her as she coats the tip of your cock with peanut butter and spreads it along your length. “Look at this, daddy,” she keeps stroking your shaft to make sure it’s evenly coated, “this is going to taste so good.”
You let out a big exhale when Seoyeon takes your peanut butter-coated cock in her mouth, and she exclaims at the taste. You jolt a little when you feel her tongue running wild on the underside of your cock. “Oh, God, I won’t last if you do it like that, baby.”
After a few minutes of bobbing her head on your cock, Seoyeon taps your thigh to get your attention. “Wook aw we,” she mumbles. Once you look at her, she starts going down on your cock even further until its entirety disappears in her mouth. “Oh, you’re fucking crazy,” you’re breathless at this point, “fuck, your throat is going to get stretched, baby.”
Seoyeon comes up air after having had her airway blocked by your cock. “That was so good, daddy; the peanut butter added some extra flavors.” You nod weakly. “I-I’m glad, baby.” She climbs onto the bed and lies down next to you. “Your turn, daddy,” she pulls out another cup of peanut butter—the one that you ate out of less than an hour ago—and places it on your chest. “Gladly.”
With half a cup of peanut butter in hand, you pull Seoyeon by her legs towards you until her legs hang past the edge of the bed. “You know where this is going, don’t you?” Seoyeon nods. “Tell me, then, baby.” “Y-you will smear peanut butter over my pink pussy and eat me out until I squirt all over your face.” She rarely talks about herself in such a manner, and hearing it arouses you even more. “That’s correct, baby.”
You get on your knees, and Seoyeon’s shiny pussy is right in front of your eyes. She jolts when you place a finger on her nub. “Aww, sensitive much?” She nods. “P-please, daddy, make me feel good.”
You use your index and middle fingers to pick up some peanut butter and spread it crassly on Seoyeon’s pussy, and she keeps moaning as you do it. “Oh, this is going to taste so good,” you use her line against her. “D-don’t say it like—oh, God, daddy.” Seoyeon immediately clamps your head with her thick thighs, and you swear that they cancel noises better than any fancy Sony headphones in your collection.
You continue administering stimulation on her pussy, earning endless sensual moans from your girlfriend, and at this moment, you’re glad your parents have inherited their love for peanut butter onto you. “D-daddy,” her voice is barely heard, “d-daddy, I’m about to cum.”
You pick up the intensity of the cunnilingus as you’re highly enthused to make her finish; your tongue runs all over her pussy while occasionally sucking and nibbling her nub. Seoyeon places a hand on the back of your head while using the other hand to play with her plump tits for extra stimulation.
You’re surprised when Seoyeon’s juice suddenly hits you in the face, but you manage to open your mouth just in time to catch some of them. Unable to speak, you tap her thigh to get her attention. “W-what?” You swallow her juice that’s pooled in your mouth in one go, and Seoyeon lets out a chuckle. “You’re insane, daddy.”
You use some wet wipes to clean yourself and your girlfriend. “T-thank you, daddy.” You peck her on the forehead. “No, baby, thank you—I hope this is enough for now, though.” She nods. “It should be.”
Seoyeon climbs onto your body when you lie on the bed. “D-daddy,” she moves on to a different subject, “do you—erm, do you like my body?” You’re both startled and confused. “What is that question, babe?” “I mean, I-I’m not as fit as Dayeon-ie—I think her tits are also bigger than mine.” Your jaw drops due to the absurdity. “When have I compared you to her, hm?” “J-just answer the question, daddy.”
You take a deep breath as you formulate an answer for your girlfriend. “First of all, I love your physique because you’re thick on the right spots. Number two, you’re very tight, both the front and the back.” “Really?” You scoff. “Do you not remember how I busted early when we first did anal?” Seoyeon giggles. “That virgin ass was too much for your mighty cock, wasn’t it, daddy?” “Oh, for sure.”
Based on her smile, you estimate that she’s satisfied with your answer. “Baby, look,” you say, “you know I’m not a fan of talking about a girl’s body like that, but I hope you understand what I was trying to say.” She nods. “I-I just needed some boost to my confidence, daddy, and you delivered just that.” You give her a peck on the lips. “I’m glad I could help.”
Seoyeon straightens her posture. “Can I have this, daddy?” She asks as she starts stroking your cock again. “Are you desperate for it?” “Oh, c’mon, you know I can’t have enough of you, and I know you can’t have enough of me.” You chuckle. “That’s one way to put it.”
Your girlfriend lifts her butt of your lap and— “Oh, fuck, you’re in my ass, daddy.” “Yeah?” You can only say one word as you fight her constraining asshole. “You’re so big in my ass, daddy—fuck, you’re stretching me like crazy.” You reach around to spank her. “Ride my cock, baby.” “Y-yes, sir.”
Seoyeon plants her hands on your chest and begins moving up and down at a relaxed pace on your cock, savoring the sensation of getting stretched that is almost too much for her. “N-no one can do it like I can, right, daddy?” You’re about to open your mouth when she piles on another question. “No one can take you in the ass as well as I can, right, daddy?” “Yes, and yes,” you say, “no one can do it like you can, and no one else deserves me like you do.”
Seoyeon rewards your correct answers (again) by picking up the pace of her bounces, and you can’t help but let go of the controls of the session. “Just like that, baby—exactly like that,” you make sure the praises are flowing without hindrance. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” curses are flowing out of Seoyeon’s lips without hindrance—quite the contrast with you, but it’s no secret that opposites attract like crazy.
“D-daddy,” she’s showing signs of exhaustion, “t-take over, please—take over and fuck me like you always do.” You pull her into an embrace and roll over so that you’re on top. “Are you going to tap out like last time?” “Hold me down and force me to take it, daddy—I’m your slut.” That’s quite the nasty term, but at this moment, it only adds to your arousal. Your giggle sounds like a movie villain’s. “Alright, bet.”
You hold her legs and fold them over her body. “You’re going to take it like a good slut, aren’t you?” Seoyeon nods. “F-fuck—OH, FUCK ME, DADDY!” The bedroom is getting filled with screams and moans from your girlfriend and heavy grunts from you as you pound her ass without mercy.
Seoyeon’s eyes start rolling backwards as time goes, completely in submission to your cock. A particular thrust messes up your hair, thus disrupting your vision of your girlfriend. You stop momentarily to tidy up, and while you’re at it, you take a moment to check up on her. “You okay, baby?” She nods weakly. “M-my ass is going to be so sore,” she says weakly.
With your hair tidied up, you start moving again at a pace that’s similar prior to the pause. “Ngh, ngh, ngh.” Only these sounds come out of Seoyeon’s mouth as you fuck her ass restlessly to chase an orgasm. In her head, she’s praying that it’s good enough for you, considering that she can’t help but be passive in this position. “Daddy is using me,” these words keep going around in her head endlessly, but she must admit, anal sex offers much more sensation; the pain, the tightness, and the stretch are different than vaginal sex.
With a grunt, you lodge your cock as deep as you can into her ass and blow a massive load right into her. “B-baby,” you’re breathless again, “I love you so, so, so much.” “Have mercy,” she weakly replies. When you retreat from her ass, it leaks out some excess cum onto the bed, but that’s fine, you can just swap the sheets. “Are you okay, baby—are you hurt?” Seoyeon shakes her head. “I-I need some water, though.”
-
You’re sitting at the desk in your bedroom while Seoyeon (who is still naked) is lying in bed and is on her phone, scrolling through social media.
“Babe,” you call to her, “Jihyun-ie is video-calling me.” “Why?” “I don’t know,” you’re as clueless as she is. Seoyeon sits on your lap and tilts the webcam upwards so that it doesn’t pick up her nude form. “Accept it, oppa; I want to hear what she has to say.”
“Oh my God, you’re both here!” You see that it’s actually Hyeonju and Sunwoo, the latter holding a guitar. “Oh, you two are really dating, huh?” You chuckle. “What would I gain from lying to you, Miss Kim?”
“Wait, Seoyeon-unnie,” Sunwoo says, “you’re not naked, are you—I can see your bare shoulder, you know.” Seoyeon looks away momentarily before winking at Sunwoo, and she’s met with exclaims of disbelief from the two girls. “I really shouldn’t have asked that, huh?” “No, but it’s okay; me and oppa are consenting adults.”
“So, to what do we owe this call, girls?” Hyeonju fights the heat in her cheeks and says that her and Sunwoo would like to give you a present in the form of some song covers. “We practiced this afternoon, oppa,” she adds. You look at Seoyeon through the screen and see that she’s excited to hear them sing. “Sounds great—we’re ready when you are.”
Sunwoo starts playing the guitar to signal to Hyeonju that she’s ready, and Hyeonju starts bopping her head as she gets ready to sing. “Feel free to sing along, boss,” she says right before it’s time to sing.
私は私 貴方は貴方と (I am only me, you are only you)
昨夜言ってた そんな気もするわ (I said that last night and still feel the same way)
グレイのジャケットに (You in your gray jacket)
見覚えがある コーヒーのしみ (With that familiar coffee stain)
相変らずなのね (Just as you always are)
ショーウィンドウに 二人映れば (Our reflection in the display window)
You know this song so well; at some point in your university life, you and your friends were obsessed with this song and listened to it so frequently, but Seoyeon doesn’t know what song this is. “I’ll tell you more about it later,” you whisper to her as you get ready to sing along.
Stay with me~
真夜中のドアをたたき (Knocking on Midnight’s door)
帰らないでと泣いた (Begging you to not go home)
あの季節が 今 目の前 (That season when I cried right in front of your eyes)
Stay with me~
口ぐせを言いながら (Saying our favorite words)
二人の瞬間を抱いて (Holding on to our little moment)
まだ忘れず 大事にしていた (I’ll never forget it as long as I live)
You clap your hands loudly in praise and awe when Hyeonju stops singing. “Oh my God, Kim Hyeonju,” you say, your tone high in excitement, “you absolutely killed that cover—goodness me!” “You know that song, boss?” You roll your eyes playfully. “That should be my question—how do you know that song that’s older than your parents, hm?” Hyeonju laughs. “I stumbled upon it when I was scrolling the internet,” she gives a very typical today’s kid’s answer. “I was obsessed with that song when I was in university, you know.”
Seoyeon taps your forearm. “What song was that, oppa?” “Girls, your Seoyeon-unnie doesn’t know what song it was,” you tease her, “the song is called Mayonaka no Door, sweetie, sung by the legendary Miki Matsubara and was released in 1979.” Her jaw drops. “Oh my God, that’s a long time ago.” You nod. “That’s why I wondered how Hyeonju and Sunwoo knew about this song.”
Hyeonju asks for your attention, citing that she and Sunwoo are ready to present the second song cover for you and Seoyeon. “Ah, I know this one,” Seoyeon comments when Sunwoo starts playing her guitar.
네가 날 싫어해하는 걸 알아 (I know that you hate me)
나는 서운해 (I’m sad)
그런 날 왜 너는 못 이해해 (Why can’t you understand me?)
You don’t understand, 난 너를 좋아한다고 (You don’t understand, I like you)
You have a big grin on your face, expecting Sunwoo and Hyeonju to share the lines like the original artists, and true enough, they are.
내가 뭘 잘못했는데 (What did I do wrong?)
내게 왜 그러는데 (Why are you doing this to me)
그럴수록 난 되게 섭섭해 (The more you do that, the sadder I get) Oh I’m so sad
그러니까 슬슬 (So let me slowly) come into your heart
마음 중요한 건 마음 (The important thing is the heart)
결코 네 얼굴만 보고 좋아하는 거 — 아니 아니야 (I’m not liking you just for your face—no, no)
날 미워하는 너의 날이 선 말투까지도 (Even your sharp words that hate on me)
사랑하게 된 거 이게 내 맘이야 (I came to love them, this is my heart)
Just like before, you clap your hands loudly in praise. “Great job, girls,” you add, “wow, you’re great at this.” “We told you we wouldn’t let you down, didn’t we, boss?” You can hear the pride in Sunwoo’s voice. “Oh, that you did, Sunwoo-yah, and trust me when I say that I’m anything but disappointed right now.”
You’re interrupted when Seoyeon suddenly kisses you in front of the girls, and you can hear their loud, surprised exclaim through the video call—this is the first time she has committed a public display of affection with you. “Oh my God, you two are so in love,” Sunwoo comments. “You have no idea,” Seoyeon says after breaking the kiss, “oppa is such an amazing boyfriend for me.” “Promise us you’ll invite us to your wedding, unnie,” Sunwoo adds, thus making Seoyeon laugh. She leans closer towards the camera, presumably to whisper something into the microphone. “Hey, uh, don’t tell anyone yet, but the wedding is closer than you think.” You’re met with another loud scream from the other side of the screen.
You tap her back to get her attention. “You think so, baby?” You speak quietly so that the microphone doesn’t pick up your voice. “Oh, I know so,” she says, “I’m going to make you mine, oppa.” Another grin decorates your face.
“And you’re going to be mine forever, baby girl.”
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dashing-disaster · 3 days ago
Text
Bad Beer and Naked Rodents
Thank you @xmidhel for beta reading!
also on AO3
“You know,” Sal drawls, twisting the cap off another beer and handing it over, “for someone with an above average IQ, you’re dense as fuck.”
Tommy glares but accepts the bottle without protest. It’s his third. He takes a long sip and shudders. Bud Light. Why did Sal have to be such a fucking stereotype? But he was too tired to complain. He was too tired to do much of anything right now.
“He’s not wrong,” Lucy said to his left and Tommy directed his glare towards her instead. Like Sal, she wasn’t impressed.
“What? You know it’s true. There you are, genuinely happy for the first time in…” she pauses to think, “for the first time since I met you, actually.”
“Ever” Tommy supplies miserably, sinking further into the couch cushions. Something pokes into his right kidney and he reaches underneath himself, pulling out a small doll with messy blue hair, a pink ruffled dress and a … horn?
“Unicorn Barbie,” Sal exclaims and snags the doll from his hand. “Thanks man, you just saved this household a lot of sweat and tears. Look, babe, he found her!”
“Uncle Tommy to the rescue,” Gina says dryly, without even looking up from her laptop where she’s furiously typing some email that’s probably important and Tommy feels a pang of guilt at intruding on her peace and quiet unannounced at 9pm on a week day, Lucy in tow. He’s unable to dwell on it, however, because Lucy pipes up again.
“Let’s circle back here for a moment, your life was going great, you were happy, your hair was even starting to look good-“
“Hey!”
“Don’t interrupt me, Thomas. My point is, you got scared of commitment for three seconds and tell Evan Buckley, Evan Buckley, to go off to frolic on Grindr? I’m sorry, but do you know how stupid that is? Do you have any idea what happens to guys like Evan Buckley on Grindr?”
“Say his name like that one more time and I swear to God.” It comes out with far more venom than intended and he cringes internally. Why does he have to be such a bitch? It’s a credit to their love for him that none of his friends even bat an eye.
They’re not gentle either, and Tommy’s kind of glad about it. He doesn’t deserve gentle. Not now, maybe not ever again.
“What happens to guys like him on Grindr,” Sal asks curiously and then frowns. “And what do you know about Grindr?”
“My cousin wanted to try it out but he’s super paranoid about technology stealing his data, man’s still got a Nokia. So we set up his profile on my phone. He decided it wasn’t for him 10 minutes in but I kept the app and sometimes I go window shopping when downtime gets too long.”
“Why am I not surprised in the slightest,” Tommy mutters into his beer. Lucy is undeterred.
“Anyway, Gabe’s no hag either and similarly baby-faced as Buck so every time I open the app they’re on him in minutes. Seriously, it’s like The Walking Dead and some of the messages I get are borderline illegal. And don’t get me started on the dick pics. They’re not even nice-looking dicks most of the time.”
“Is there such a thing as a nice-looking dick? I’ve always found they all look a little like mole-rats.”
Sal, who’s been fiddling with Unicorn Barbie’s hair in a futile attempt to get out some of the knots pauses and makes a pitiful little sound staring wide-eyed at his wife who’s still neither looking up from her screen, nor is she pausing her aggressive typing, and Tommy’s both impressed and a little scared of that level of multi-tasking.
“Don’t worry, bud, Gi loves your dick. You’ve got three little monsters to prove it.”
Sal shoots Lucy a look so dirty Tommy almost laughs.
“I love the man attached to it. It’s still a mole-rat, though.” A beat of silence, then Gina looks up from her laptop for the first time in two hours, finding her husband’s eyes across the coffee table. “I love mole-rats.”
Lucy snorts, but Sal looks so pleased even Tommy has to smile.
“Still, though,” Lucy picks up the previous topic again, “are we sure it’s a good idea to throw Buck into a world of mole-rats and creepy old dudes wanting him to call them ‘daddy’?”
Tommy decidedly does not look in Sal’s direction. He loves Lucy and Gina but this is a topic one only discusses with one’s very best of friends.
“A world of disappointment, more like. Buck’s had Tommy now, anything else will just be a let-down.” The dirty grin spreading on Sal’s face tells Tommy he’s about to be in trouble. And he’s right.
“We didn’t call my boy here Nine-Inch-Nail in high school for nothin’.”
“Okay, first of all, that is such a lie,” the grin goes impossibly wider, “and second, I am not 9 inches, okay?”
Three sets of eyes wander down to his crotch and if it wasn’t these exact three people, Tommy would be so uncomfortable right now. As it is, he simply huffs and shoves a throw pillow into his lap, crossing his arms like a petulant toddler.
“I’m 8.6.”
Silence.
Then all three of them burst out laughing. He tries to hold on to his petulance, but he only lasts about ten seconds before the corners of his mouth begin to twitch and he finds himself joining in against all odds.
“As I was saying,” Sal hiccups after they’ve all calmed down again, “Buck doesn’t need any other mens’ mole-rats. He only needs Tommy’s giant mole-rat.”
Tommy groans.
“God, I hate you.”
Half past midnight Gina pulls the plug and throws them out. Sal tries to offer him the guest room, but he declines. As much as he loves his best friend’s daughters, he doubts he’ll can be Fun Uncle Tommy in the morning and he hates disappointing them.
As they wait for their Uber to pull up, Tommy feels strong fingers wrap around his wrist and a moment later he’s pulled into a tight hug.
“Don’t fuck up your life like that, Tom, not again. You were finally so happy. And I like you happy. ” Sal’s voice is quiet next to his ear, but there’s a softness to it that is usually reserved for his daughters. Tommy feels his throat close up and he buries his face into Sal’s shoulder.
“I just don’t know how not to, Sallie,” he admits and hates how forlorn it sounds.
How forlorn he feels.
“You trust him. I know it’s the most terrifying thing to do, believe me I do. But you gotta.”
Sal pulls back to catch his eyes, but keeps hold of Tommy’s shoulders.
“This man is the best thing that’s ever happened to you, Tom, and if you give up on what you have now, you will regret it for the rest of your life. But in order to keep it, you need to let him in and you need to trust him to know what he wants. It’s not your place to decide that for him.
And I know you want to let him set the pace, but you can only do that as long as you’re able to keep up. This relationship is about the both of you and if things are moving too fast, you have to tell him that. It’s not fair to either of you if you don’t.
And Tommy, you have to talk to him about your shit.”
Tommy opens his mouth to protest but Sal shuts him up with a shake of his head.
“No buts. Buck isn’t stupid. Do you really think he hasn’t clocked by now that you have trauma? I’m not saying you gotta tell him all of it at once. But you need to start somewhere.”
Sal pulls him back in roughly and presses a kiss to his temple.
 “I’ve seen the way that boy looks at you. He wants to take care of your heart so badly. Let him. Let him love you. All of you.
And if it all goes to shit anyway, you know that I’ll be right here. I always will be.”
Tommy bursts into tears.
It’s 3am when he finally finds himself knocking at the same door he closed behind himself for what he thought would be the last time less than ten hours ago.
It’s telling that it takes Evan just under half a minute to open it. It’s more telling that his eyes are red-rimmed, and he’s still wearing the same clothes.
Evan’s terrible at hiding his emotions, doesn’t even try to most of the time. It’s one of the many things Tommy loves about him.
Right now, he seems to experience all of them at the same time.
Hope, when he opens the door. Relief, when his eyes fall on Tommy in the hallway.
Hurt, anger, fear, concern, fondness, and finally back to hope.
He’s silent. Waiting.
Tommy takes a breath.
“Hey.”
“Hi.”
They look at each other, the insecurity and fear hanging between them like a cloud of vapor, so thick Tommy can almost taste it.
But there’s something else, too. Smaller, more fragile, and yet persistent like a moth chasing the light.
It’s the same thing Tommy’s seen in Evan’s eyes earlier.
Hope.
For a time, neither of them moves, as if they’re scared, that if they do it’ll spook and leave them alone in the dark again.
A minute passes. Two.
Somewhere in the building a baby begins to cry.
Evan steps aside.
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eddiethebrave · 1 day ago
Text
secret admirer part twenty-five
1043 words
one two three four five six seven eight nine ten eleven twelve thirteen fourteen fifteen sixteen seventeen eighteen nineteen twenty twenty-one twenty-two twenty-three twenty-four
That morning…
Eddie it really sucks that you’re the only you  other than the fact that two eddies would be amazing on it’s own, i realized that you don’t know how it feels to have your attention it’s so intense dude you’re so intense in the best way, of course i can only hope that i get to experience that feeling more in the future maybe in the present, too p.s. i got your book again yesterday, here’s hoping second time’s the charm -H
Yesterday, Eddie thinks, he should have been more present and paid attention to what H’s note said. He’d sort of gone into tunnel vision when he’d been - however jokingly - accused of not understanding one of his books. It kind of made him wish for the first time that he could talk back. He’d contemplated just walking up to Hagan during lunch, but decided not to. He wouldn’t want to make anyone suspicious of the guy, no matter how much of an asshole he tends to be to everyone else. Eddie just isn’t that kind of person. 
The audacity of a jock who’s admitted to only reading books for school - and for Eddie - to allege that Eddie needs to read a book more than once in order to understand it. 
Has he read all of his favorite books more than once? Yes, but that’s only because they’re his favorites!
And does he notice something new nearly every reread? Also yes, but he chooses to believe that’s what Tolkien intended. It’s like a scavenger hunt of foreshadowing and little things to get excited about even when you know the ending. 
Anyway, Eddie is decidedly less preoccupied today and he’s been wondering what book H is reading.
His curiosity leads him to venture into the school’s library before he heads to the lunchroom. 
He tries to recall which books he’d checked out the last couple of months. Once he’s compiled his mental list, he tracks them down one by one. Eddie checks the card that’s in a pocket inside the front cover of each book on the off chance that Hagan’s name is logged on any of them - it’s not. 
Eddie does find it interesting, though, to see a pattern in a few of the names he does see. Those that pop up multiple times are mostly people he recognizes from Hellfire.
He slowly eliminates each book until he’s left with one that’s not on the shelf. The Return of The King. The last book in the The Lord of the Rings series. 
Most staff - like the students - at Hawkins High aren’t very happy when they see Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson approaching them. The school librarian isn’t one of them, though. Eddie’s been traipsing through this library for the better part of four years. 
Before he’d procured his prickly personality and style as a defense mechanism to the hostile environment of high school in rural Indiana, Eddie found shelter among the creaky furniture, shelves lined with books, and Ms. Hewitt.
She’s seen his sorry face more times than you can count and has always greeted him with a smile. Today is no different. 
He asks her about The Return of the King.
“Someone beat ya’ to it. Nice young man, he was.”
And while Eddie wouldn’t necessarily refer to Tommy Hagan as nice, he would for H. 
Eddie thanks and bids her farewell and then he’s off to lunch. 
He’s still having trouble conflating Hagan and his better half as the same person. 
So, H read the last book of an already complicated series without any backstory. No wonder he was so fucking confused. Eddie laughs to himself just imagining it. Against his better judgment, he’s hopelessly endeared. 
He’s late to lunch, but it’s not as if he was planning on paying for what the school thinks passes for food, anyway. 
When he takes his seat at the head of the table, Jeff places an apple from his homemade meal in front of him without even looking his way or pausing his debate with Gareth (the freshman who’d flipped Eddie’s world upside down by unknowingly revealing H’s identity as the one and only Tommy fucking Hagan).
Eddie absentmindedly munches on the fruit as he takes up his usual lunchtime hobby of gazing at a certain jock’s table. He finds it sort of odd when Harrington - Steve - forces Hagan to play musical chairs or some shit, but Eddie’s not intrigued enough to care, really. He does catch sight of Hagan’s red face and clenched jaw, though. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think the guy was pissed. 
The change of seats provides Eddie with something more worthwhile to look at, so he’s not complaining. Steve seems in high spirits, and Eddie feels his own mood brighten in return.
When their shared elective comes along, Eddie finds himself jittery as he awaits the boy’s arrival. It makes him feel sort of silly, but not enough to lessen the excitement when Steve finally arrives.
The jock takes his seat between Eddie and Carol and turns to greet the latter.
“Carol, Robin.”
“Steve,” the girls say simultaneously without looking in his direction at all. Eddie doesn’t pretend to know what’s going on there, and he honestly doesn’t want to.
Steve then turns to his left to face Eddie, and the last thing he needs is to be limited to the same dry conversation - if you could even call it that - so he cuts him off once he starts.
“Ed-”
“Steven Harold Harrington III. How now?” Eddie has never been the best at English accents, but he figures it gets the point across just fine.
Steve’s face splits into a grin before he forces his expression into a stoic one. He continues to adopt the most heinous English accent Eddie has ever heard - including his own. “That’s His Majesty Steven Harold Harrington III to you, Edwin,” he says snottily.
Eddie can’t help but break into his own grin. Never mind the fact that Eddie’s name isn’t fucking Edwin, but Edward. Few people embrace his antics, let alone engage in them. 
Eddie is so gone on this boy. He was kidding himself thinking he could stay away. 
Steve Harrington might just be the end of him.
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Text
The Shy One
Inspired by this post; in the same universe as this and this
Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Character: Bucky Barnes
Summary: a night out ends in an embarrassing encounter.
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️
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It feels like you’re seeing the world through tinted glass. The low lights, the buzz of voices, and the subtle clink of glasses feed the haze around you. That and the cocktail in your hand. Just ice now. Your second. You’re surprised how easily it went down. 
“Want another?” Mikayla asks as you play with the thin straw. 
“Maybe not yet,” you shrug. 
She grins at Alina, “lightweight?” 
The other women laugh. You’re too embarrassed to admit it but you are. In fact, it’s the first time you’ve ever tasted alcohol. If they don’t mock you for confessing, they wouldn’t believe you. 
“So happy you came out,” Katy grins. 
“Yeah, too bad you didn’t make the work mixer last month,” Lu says. 
“Hm, yeah, I just... I couldn’t make it,” you chew your lip. 
“Mmm, Mik,” Katy purrs, “you seeing what I’m seeing?” 
Katy tilts her head and Mikayla follows her gaze. Alina and Lu do the same and you dare to peek after them. There’s a table of men across the bar. There timbre forms a dulcet drone amid the din. 
“Sexy, look at that beard.” Alina slithers 
“Which one?” Lu giggles. 
You shift and look down at your glass. You wrap both your hands around it and squirm. They said it was just work drinks. You don’t want to be dealing with strangers. 
“Oh, honey, loosen up,” Alina grabs your starched collar and pops the top button. “You have another one of those and you’ll be dancing on the table.” 
“Um,” you lean away from her, “maybe. Erm, I need to go to the restroom.” 
“Boo, too early to break the seal,” Katy whines. 
“Sorry,” you apologise and stand. 
You take your glass with you and as you turn, you stop short as your eyes meet another pair. One of the men from the crowded table catches you in his gaze. You gulp and quickly lower your chin. You hurry on to the bar and set your empty glass on it. 
“Thanks,” you say. 
“Oh, thanks,” the man behind it swipes it away. “The waitress coulda grabbed that.” 
“Oh, now worries,” you show a palm and turn to find the restroom. 
You head down the hallway behind the bright blue sign. You dip into the ladies and claim a stall. As nice as it is to release the pressure, it’s even nicer to get a breather. You’re not the bar type. Not a drinker or a dancer, as much as Alina keeps suggesting it. You’re a total square. Thirty years old and you’ve never done anything more fun than laser tag. 
You wash your hands and leave the bathroom reluctantly. The music seems louder as you come out, the voices too. As you enter the barroom, you slow down. You’re mortified to find Alina and Katy in the open space, dancing. Grinding against each other. 
You stand there, frozen and embarrassed. The other women at the table cheer them on lewdly. You don’t know what to do. Sitting with Lu and Mikayla would draw as much attention as joining the dancing. This doesn’t seem like the place for that. 
Maybe it’s time for you to go. You’re feeling a bit cloudy and your eyes are fuzzy. You’ve been up since five in the morning. 
You slowly cross the space but have to dodge as Alina spins out and nearly crashes into you. In an effort to avoid her, you hit the side of a table, bouncing off of it and staggering until you fall onto something soft. Thank gosh you managed to find a seat in your descent. 
“Mmph,” the grunt greets you with the firm cushion beneath you, “y’alright, doll?” 
You look over in horror at the man who’s lap you sit upon. How embarrassing!! You look around at the other men at the table as it dawns on you. This is the worst crash landing you can imagine. 
You gasp and peer back at the man who serves as your chair. He’s terrifyingly handsome. His eyes are so blue and his jaw is chiseled beneath his dark beard. His brown hair curtains down around his cheekbones and his cheek dimples in amusement. 
“I’m so sorry,” you wriggle against him as he spreads his large hand across your back. “I tripped. I didn’t man to—oh gosh.” 
You touch your scalding forehead and try to shimmy out of his lap. It’s useless as you can’t get much of a stronghold. You just manage to ground your butt down on him. 
“You okay there?” He runs his fingertips up your spine and sends a shiver through you. 
“I’m--- sorry!” You gulp out again. “Please, I’m--” you grab the corner of the table and manage to haul yourself up. “I’m so...” you shake your head and bluster. You’re burning in humiliation. You can feel the other men watching you. “Ugh.” 
You turn and scurry around Alina and Katy. You quickly gather up your purse and coat as the women at the table laugh. “Oh, honey, why don’t you give him a nice ride,” Lu teases. 
You blanch at her and makes a face, “I didn’t mean to--” 
“Oh, chill,” Mikayla chides. “Really, it was funny. Where are you going?” 
“Home,” you exclaim. “Stop laughing at me. You’ve been laughing at me all night.” 
Lu scoffs, “well, you’re a bit silly, aren’t you? Act like you’ve never touched a man or a drink before.” 
You frown and flutter your lashes against the singe of hot tears. This is why you always say no. Why you are always ‘busy’. You don’t fit in. You’re better off alone. 
You hug your coat and bag and hurry across the bar. You push through the door and stagger out into the night with a sniffle. Oh joy, work is going to be even worse. Now they’re going to sit around and cackle at you instead of Wendy and her tacky dresses. 
You look around, searching for your bearings. You need to find a cab and get out of here. You see once coming down the pavement. You shift your things into one arm and throw your other up. The taxi steers towards the sidewalk but picks up another pedestrian further down. 
You huff and crane in search of another escape. 
“Hey, doll,” a rocky voice calls over the hinges of the bar door. “Where’re you off to?” You continue to peer down the street, frightened as you feel a gentle nudge on your elbow, “hey, talking to you. You didn’t even give me a name after you sat right on me.” 
You flinch and reel away from him, “huh? What? Oh, I’m sorry. That was just... clumsy.” 
“Ah, it’s fine. Really. It was funny,” he assures you. “I’m not making fun of you. Just, a pretty girl falls right in my lap then runs away, I kinda gotta wonder...” 
“Umph?” You furrow your brow, “you’re making fun of me too.” 
“Why would I do that?” He tilts his head. “Come back inside. Let me by you a drink.” You shake your head and wave your hand past him at another yellow cab. He chuckles softly, “you don’t gotta be shy.” 
“I don’t know you,” you insist. 
“I’m tryna fix that,” he counters. 
“Really, I just wanna go home,” you whine as the taxi drives by without stop. 
“Right, let’s do that,” he turns and throws his hand up. He whistles and wiggles his fingers. A cab rolls right up to him. “Let’s go.” 
He opens the back door and stands back. You stare at it. 
“Thanks,” you sigh in relief. You get in, ducking through the door, greeting the driver with a polite, “hello.” 
Yet the door doesn’t close. Instead, you’re urged further inside by the man as he sits on the seat next to you. You slide over as he pulls the door shut behind him. 
“Tell him where we’re going, doll,” he commands. 
You look at him, then the driver. You’re too stunned to think. What is he doing? You give your address and curl your shoulders as you shrink down. 
“Now,” the man stretches his arm across the seat, “we got the whole ride to get to know each other,” he offers his other hand, “I’m Bucky, I hear I make a pretty comfy seat.” 
You can’t help half a smile. You reach and shake his hand. You suppose he did help you out and he doesn’t seem angry about your unceremonious fall. You give him your name. 
“Thanks,” you say again. 
“Thanks? Oh doll, what kinda fool wouldn’t help a girl like you?” 
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